The Charlie Project :: Episode II
by Ellastasia
Summary: [Episode Two] Where Charlie decides to enter the World of Darkness.
1. Preface

I'd like to extend a major appreciation to all my fans and followers from the first episode! Thank you for your interest and loyalty. It means more to me than I can describe.

Without further ado, here begins the next installment of Charlie's journey into the World of Darkness.

As per standard, I conclude this introduction with the standard statements: While I may take liberties with the fandom, I don't profess to own any of the clans or lore therein contained. That all belongs to White Wolf Game Studios. Thank you for creating such an awesome setting that I've adored for over a decade.


	2. Thursday

Wednesday night.

Vampires.

Really now. What the hell did that mean.

What the hell did it mean to me? Eternal life? Eternal servitude? Torment in this life? Unquestionable fire and brimstone for the life thereafter? Fanciful and romantic in fiction, but rather disturbing in reality.

And to further my frustration, a vision of Jann. Immediately, I shunned it. His hold on me was infuriating. But not entirely.

Jann would be the death of me, this I knew.

I closed my eyes and exhaled, feeling the breath escape from my lungs into the cool night air. Would this be the last night I'd breathe oxygen? What was this existence that threatened to destroy my life?

Little did I know that the world of darkness had begun its certain and unyielding tendrils into my existence.

[End of Episode One]

* * *

I awoke late Thursday afternoon horribly groggy and still fatigued from the night before. Unlike those sorts of awakenings where you're completely oblivious to your location or identity, I knew exactly where I was and what had happened the night – or should I say, dawn – before this morning. More like sunset. At the early dawn of winter, the sun was setting as quickly as it could nowadays. It was nearly five thirty.

I opened my eyes, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, and automatically stifled the urge to light up. But then I realized that I was in a stranger's house. I hadn't come here willingly, so I would do as I well pleased, and I'd light up wherever and whenever I wanted to. My thoughts cascaded over themselves quickly and ultimately settled on the remembrance that I had hardly two cigarettes left to speak of. That picked my head up from the comfortably warm pillow, and I was pleasantly surprised to find another pack of Marlboro Blacks next to my old pack, of which apparently had taken quite a beating over the past day and a half. Honestly, I'm surprised the pack even lasted that long.

And who'd put the new pack there?

I sat up and picked up the silver butane lighter, courtesy of Gabriel, and lit one up.

So. Supposedly I was trapped in a big house that housed vampires. Or, I was hiding from a crime scene. Depended on the perspective. With the fire Shand burned up in, he must have started a fine three-alarm fire of his building. With the remains of a body or two, it'd automatically become a crime scene, and then it was only a matter of time before they figured out who had roasted to death. My car had to have been impounded by now, and, well, I wasn't sure what would happen then. They would discover the owner of this abandoned vehicle and suspect it related to the building fire. And also, if I, said owner, never picked it up, then they'd sell it out from under me. And if I neglected to finish off the remaining two years of the finance, I'd have a nice default under my credit.

I took a drag, not liking my train of thought.

How about we get back to vampires. There was no denying what I saw last night – or should I say in the wee hours of this morning. Could I deny what I saw? Green's... the weird thing that happened to him, before Gabriel had jumped on him. I didn't have words for it, and I squeezed my eyes shut wishing that morbid visual away. There was no special effects, I know what I'd seen, and it was realistically impossible for even the most sincere pack of loonies to create such a spectacle. There's some sick people out there, but...

I took another drag of my cigarette.

I didn't like where my train of thought was going on this one, either.

So I did what I do best. I got out of bed and walked to the window, scoping the landscape. There was a stone wall behind that treeline about a hundred feet from my second-story window, but you had to look for it through the lengthening shadows. The days were getting shorter quickly, winter would be here before I knew it, especially up here in New England. Observe the current situation, forget about what I just saw. Forget about where my mind was taking me. Two doors, plus a closet in this well-furnished bedroom. Opening the closet, I found a number of nondescript clothes of various sizes. I opened the door nearest me, which was fortunately the bathroom. It had a shower. Grabbing an outfit that would fit me, I went to the bathroom.

After taking care of business and putting out my second cigarette, I opened the second door and observed my surroundings.

It was a rather long and spacious hallway, darkening in the now-setting sun. There, to the left of me, the ceiling was open and that would probably be the stairwell. I made my way toward it, my stomach suddenly growling with the lack of food for the past 24 hours. It had been a hell of a 24 hours.

And I found myself descending into that oh-so-familiar foyer where I'd found myself on that dreadful divan one too many times for the past few days. The house was silent, not even a climate system to be heard. I grounded to the main floor and looked down to the hallway where I'd made my first trek into this weird nightmare. But Brooke was no longer my guide, and I'd been thrown into a faction I had no interest interacting with. So to my right, there was another hallway that led to the other side of the house. The kitchen was this way. Would there be actual food here? Or just some lifted blood bags from the local blood bank to feed their peculiar drinking preference?

I slipped around the corner and made my way down the dark hallway to that door on the right.

Here was my kitchen. The setting sun made long shadows across the marble countertops, and I flipped the light switch. I wanted no surprises. First, a coffee. The Keurig was in the corner, and it was already loaded with water. Just to be sure, I raised the lid and sniffed the water to make sure it wasn't funky. I smelled nothing. How often could this thing have been used? I took a mug from the rack beside it, found the stash of coffee in the drawer underneath the machine, and set it up quickly. The aroma never smelt more refreshing than right now.

For a house of supposed vamps, the kitchen was properly stocked.

I found a plain shot glass, gave it a centimeter of water, and deposited it at the island; I got my cup of black coffee and sat down at the stool at the end nearest the windows. The coffee was hot, but so delicious. Even more delicious after I lighted another cigarette and exhaled in the direction of the window. The backyard was vast, much like the side yard from my room's window, and the shadows were nearly full grown now.

A small thrill surged through my chest. These so-called vamps get up at sundown.

I heard a whirring in the distance and I held my breath, straining my ears to try and decipher its source. It came from beyond the kitchen. It sounded like a car, and then there was no question about it when I heard the engine cut off. Less than a minute later, a door opened.

I took another sip of my coffee, and another drag from my smoke. Let them come.

But I only heard one pair of footsteps, hurried and approaching the hallway to the kitchen. A door opened, and whoever it was was now in the hallway. The person paused, then approached the kitchen.

I looked expectantly at the doorway and I have to say that I was surprised to discover that it was one of the ladies that accompanied these freaks. Tall, brunette, and a smile that came quickly to her face when she saw me.

"Hi there, you're Charlie?"

"Yeah," I took a sip of my coffee. "You are?"

Her smile got even wider and she came toward me. "I'm Lindsay, but call me Lin," she extended her hand, and I shook it. I like to give a firm grip, I don't think she was expecting that. "There's a lot of rumors flying around about you, but I'll tell you right now, I don't believe anything until I've seen it."

"You were there last night?" Why bother, let's just cut right to the chase. Rhetorical question. When I saw her face falter, I knew she was the girl sitting down at the table from me in that conference room.

"Yeah... I'm sorry if that freaked you out, but I insisted they leave you alone. You've... never seen such a thing before, I'm sure."

Pretentious bitch, of course not! Fountains of blood streaming simultaneously into raised wine glasses for consumption by ten or so persons? Yes, absolutely ordinary. Grown men jumping on other grown men to attack their throats with bared teeth? Sure, perfectly typical behavior. And she insisted that I be left alone? Insisted to who? Who cared? I'd remained unconscious because nobody cared enough, least of all Jann. This young lady who couldn't be much older or younger than me was what you call an exaggerator. Or, plainly, a fibber. A liar. All this analysis processed in the span of the one and a half seconds for me to react to her statement with a flutter of blinking my eyes a number of times and then looking to the ground with a bashful smile. "I'm okay. I'm more curious than anything, actually," I quickly looked back up at her.

"Really?" To this statement, she tilted her head and gave me a crooked smile. "Well, that's why you're here, right?"

"I'm a skeptic, actually," I said immediately. No sense in beating around the bush. The best way to deal with schmoozers like her was to always keep them on their toes. Never say what you really think.

She laughed lightly, her dark eyes glittering at me. "Oh, well, about Jann and his weird ways? Or about the kindred in general?"

"Kindred," I muttered, rolling my eyes and taking a last inhale of my cigarette, then dropping it dramatically into the shot glass. I met her scrutinizing gaze. "About the whole thing, Lin." I didn't know her, but I knew her type, and generally speaking, she was harmless. As long as you gave them a decent amount of admiration. They just loved to hear themselves talk, so I always gave them the floor. "I find it hard to believe in vampires."

"Well," she smiled grimly, leaning her elbows onto the island. Her eyeliner was immaculate. "I know, I've been in your shoes before."

As I'm sure she's probably done everything I've done before, too, and then some. I digress. My thoughts are always running away with me.

"I can understand it can be a hurdle to some, but it's really not hard to accept. You had to have had some interest in vampires and the supernatural for you to be here in the first place, I'm sure."

It was a passing phase, thank you very much. But go on. Tell me about your experience, I'll divulge later. For now, I'll just nod.

"But personally, Jann shouldn't have spooked you out like that. If I heard correctly from Bengal, his second-hand man, he wanted you there last night. And did you really see him burn to ashes from the sun this morning?" She covered her mouth with her hand. That really did look like genuine concern in her eyes.

I frowned. Well news certainly traveled fast around here, I thought everyone had gone to bed by that hour. Well, mental note number one: there is no privacy here. But I could reinterpret my frown into one of distress. "Yeah... it's definitely not like the movies."

"Oh no," she laughed, waving her hand at me. "Forget Hollywood, Charlie! This is the real thing. But, what makes me curious is the way Jann is treating you. You're not Gabriel's ghoul or anything, are you?"

"Ghoul?" I couldn't help but echo. "I'm no frikkin' ghoul; I was an old classmate of Brooke's and that's all."

"Ahh, I see," she nodded her head, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"What is a ghoul?" This I had to hear from her. Probably another romanticized definition. I really ought to ask a non-human next time.

"I'm a ghoul," she splayed her hand on her chest with what looked like pride, "as are the other two ladies here. We're, shall we say, addicted to our kindred. If you aren't one yet, I'm sure you will be. We get a taste of our ethereal lovers, and they keep us young. Just the tiniest taste of their blood, it's like the fountain of youth. Did you know I'm thirty-one?"

I'm biting my tongue here, and it's practically bleeding.

"And in turn, we give if they need from us. Among other things, they aren't just all about the red cells, you know. We help in this little venture of theirs, this little group. We do their daytime favors, and they keep us safe and entertained at night. Whatdya think?" Her smile was dazzling.

But it all sounded like a prison sentence. What happened when they stopped giving you that, er, drug? "Well, what the hell does Jann or Gabriel have to do with me? I'm not a ghoul."

"Hm, let's just say Jann's the type to, uh, have no patience for humans. He tolerates us ghouls, but that's because we help him. Other humans... well, I'll just say he has a reputation—"

The obligatory interruption, of course.

Someone else was coming down the hallway. Sounded like another woman, the heels on those boots resounding angrily. I had an inkling of who this was coming from the same direction Lin had come from. I took a sip of my coffee, glanced out at the encroaching twilight, and reached for my pack of Marlboros.

I'd just finished lighting my ciggy when Donna's bitchy face appeared in the doorway, scrunching up her nose at the sight of the cigarette she couldn't yet smell, but probably more annoyed at the fact that I was still in the vicinity of her little clique. Get over yourself, I said silently, as I gave her the lingering glance of knowing before looking back to the oblivious Lin. Actually, probably not so oblivious, but I'll give her a pass. She was trying not to be offensive, after all.

"Jann should be up soon," Donna declared, completely avoiding meeting my gaze and instead going toward the Keurig.

"I didn't realize it was that time already. So," Lin turned back to me. "I'm really curious what Jann has in mind for you."

I've been thinking the same. He'd said something about my being promising, but then again... "I never volunteered to be in this position, you know. If I had my way, I'd leave. But it doesn't seem like I can..." Of course, Lin was only fishing for information. I'd have to watch my words around this one.

"Oh no," Lin tittered. "I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere anytime soon, it doesn't work that way around here."

"How do you mean?"

"I'm not trying to upset you, but—"

A pleasant interruption from the lovely Donna: "Once you meet one of us, you either become one of us, or you're on a very short death row. There's a reason why you're here, and it's never by chance."

Keep working on that coffee, I frowned at her, not bothering to see if she noticed my disdain or not. I turned back to Lin.

She shrugged. "Basically, yeah, but I wouldn't put it that way. I think it's pretty fair to say that being that you're still here, and the fact that you have a bed here—"

"Plenty of people have slept in that bed," Donna interrupted.

I turned back to her, narrowing my eyes. She'd gotten the affect she was hoping for, and I fumed a little at the possibility that I was no exception to the rule. Well, get over yourself, I chided to me.

"But even one night means you have a good reason for spending the night, or day, here," Lin was optimistic, smiling enthusiastically. "And honestly, I highly doubt you're on 'death row' because Jann's protecting you, in a way. I mean, like, he's taking care of you. And that's the odd thing," she knitted her brows, looking off into the distance.

I took a drag of my cigarette, watching Donna from the corner of my eye. And then I noticed a shape at the doorway of the kitchen, but chose not to look at it. I knew that silhouette, that frame. The other two hadn't noticed, and I raised my eyebrow at the all-knowing Donna. "Any ideas why Jann hasn't killed me yet?" I asked Donna, hoping she'd say something off-color.

She turned around, her coffee steaming from the mug in her hands.

I noticed she liked her coffee light and sweet. What a blasphemy to coffee. I bet she chose a light roast, too.

And she gave me a haughty gaze. "Too soon to tell. I don't like to make conjectures."

That was a contradiction if I'd ever heard one, and this time, I looked straight at Jann, willing him to take note of her dishonesty. And my heart skipped a beat when I realized he was looking directly at me. Well isn't that what I wanted? Before I could conjure a snarky response to her obvious lie, he stepped into the brightening light of the kitchen. Lin and Donna were genuinely taken aback by his unexpected arrival.

"Ladies," he nodded to the each of them and returned his focus to me. "If you would join me," he said, beckoning for me to follow him. I inhaled deeply as he turned around and took a step back into the hallway. I got up, finishing my coffee. I glanced at Lin who offered me an encouraging smile. I ignored Donna completely as I walked past her and joined Jann in the hallway. Let her fester over the attention he gave me.

He looked down at me and began walking farther down the hallway in the direction toward the foyer.

"You slept well?" He asked politely after we were a short ways down the hallway. He was bearing toward the opposite side of the hallway to a closed door.

"As well as I could. I have a lot of questions for you," I said, ignoring my apprehension. This was Jann, he was just another individual, with thoughts of his own, but still bound to the same rules of all forms of etiquette. Just because he feigned my protectorate didn't make him someone worth intimidation or fear.

"I welcome them," he glanced at me, placing a key into the door lock and opening the door. "After you."

The room was dim. It was oblong, books lined both walls to the end where two curtained windows flanked a floor-to-ceiling fireplace. A desk sat in front of the fireplace, facing the door, and two armchairs faced this desk. I stepped into the immediate sitting area and Jann flipped the switch, the floor lamps and bookshelf spotlights illuminating the room into a warm setting. I nonchalantly studied the book titles as quickly as I could before I was obligated to follow him to the two armchairs in front of the desk. History books and nonfiction titles, they were. Observations of this, notes on that, the works of so-and-so, and so on. Nothing stood out to me. Dreary, really. But the subject matter seemed dated.

"An ashtray?" I asked, taking a drag and using the opportunity to scan the items on his desk, of which were scarce and simple. Blank notepad, laptop, fountain pen, cigar box, and there, Jann reached for a dish made of crystal with gold filigree. He set it near the armchair beside me, and I promptly ashed in it.

He sat down in the armchair opposite mine. I supposed that was the signal that I ought to sit down as well. The seat was soft, and it felt good to my aching muscles. I wasn't used to this sort of physical tension. Mental tension, yes, but being thrown all around and throttled, not so much.

"There are aspirins in the kitchen drawer besides the utensils, if you need them," Jann raised his eyebrow at me.

I glared up at him. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head, smiling.

Oh. Right. "Right, you're a mind reader. Fancy that."

"It isn't so fancy when it becomes predictable. I don't try very often. Our thoughts are more common than you think."

"Then you noticed that Donna is a liar," I said, crossing my legs and looking at him.

"You realize that I can read their minds as well."

I did. And damn him for reading my thoughts. "Must be a chore when you're in a crowded room."

"Selective hearing," he winked at me.

I huffed, rolling my eyes and taking another pull from my cigarette. "I'd appreciate if it you'd give me the courtesy of privacy. I can't read your mind, so it's only fair."

"You only need ask, though I don't do it purposefully. I dare say you have the same gift, however."

"Ah, well it's certainly not as clarified as yours," I narrowed my eyes at him. "At least teach me how to block my mind." But what did it matter? "So why am I here?" I leaned back, tapping my cigarette into the ashtray.

"I will train your mind another day, but not today. I sense your cynicism, and I am sorry for it, but I do believe that you are the perfect candidate for what I have in mind."

"I won't be your ghoul, or anyone else's."

He shook his head, not bothering to show anything other than interest of what he was saying. "I don't intend on you to be anyone's ghoul. But you do serve a purpose here, and I expect you to fulfill them."

So I'm your bitch, then, is that it?

"May I remind you that your thoughts are nearly as loud as your tongue."

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to draw a blank. Think of a white wall, no words, nothing. But I growled internally before meeting his cool light brown eyes. "I'm not interested in getting into trouble. It's bad enough all this stuff that happened with Brooke, I know I'm in deep shit already."

He nodded and I kept my eyes glues on him.

"And how deep of shit am I standing in right now, anyway?"

"You'd have to ask Bengal. He keeps track of human activities. We run a small operation here, Charlie, you won't be overwhelmed. And I certainly would never ask you for something that you couldn't handle. I am a very fair person."

"I'm not here by choice, Jann. I didn't – I never asked for this, and I'm not particularly keen on what you do to people who rub you wrong around here." Fair hardly covered it.

"Charlie," he put his hand up, looking squarely into my eyes. "Speak not of things you aren't aware of. I need you to be accountable. How is your throat?"

I think he changed topics three times in one breath. I studied him for a moment, watching him glance to the nick on my throat from Shand, then look back expectantly at me. Do I tell him it's itchy? How would he use that against me? Maybe I should tell him it's excruciating and that I'm ready to keel over from holding back the pain and agony. More like the agony of being somewhere I didn't want to be. With strange cannibal freaks... And then I saw his eyes smiling. Instantly, I knew what that was all about. "Damn you, Jann, stop it."

"You're confused, I know, it's to be expected."

But _how_ could he read my thoughts?

"You're scientifically persuaded. It's a pleasure to meet a human who is inquisitive for more reasons than entertainment."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't test my patience."

"If you're a vampire, don't you have all the time in the world?" It was a jab, I know, but he was getting on my nerves.

"Do you think we sit around twiddling our thumbs until we get hungry? This is the world of darkness, Charlie, and you best accept it. This is a feral world, a complicated world. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you will be at peace with yourself. I won't say you'll be happy, but your needs would be met."

"Are you turning me into a vampire?" My heart skipped a beat, not eager at the thought. Not in the least.

"I am not so vain as to foretell the future. That is yours to decide."

"How kind of you," I frowned, barely restraining myself from rolling my eyes. I took a final drag from my cigarette, then stubbed it out in the gilded dish. "Not interested, I think I've let you know already."

"I accept your decision. Fortunately, it agrees with my operation here."

"So... you're using me. Am I getting paid?"

"Are not free room and board payment enough? And something of an improved witness protection program?"

"I've committed no crimes," I scowled, leaning forward. "There is no blood on my hands," I spoke in a low voice. Leaning back dramatically, I said, "I'm sure you have plenty."

He was unmoved. "More than you can imagine, saccharine lady that you are."

I did roll my eyes now, and crossed my legs away from him. "So what do you want from me?"

"Your cooperation."

"For how long."

"Indefinitely."

Well he didn't beat around the bush, at least. "That's a tall order," I raised my eyebrow at him. "What are my odds against it?"

"None."

Well that's dandy. I snirked, figuring that would be the inevitable answer anyway. I shrugged. "Okay. Don't expect me to take that for an answer." I could imagine him slogging off with a 'resistance is futile' kind of reply, but he said nothing. So I glanced up at him.

"Arrogance is to be tamed," he said flatly.

I deadened my eyes. Right. I'm not a child anymore. But I'm not going to bend over and take it up the ass, either. That wouldn't be very adult of me now, would it.

"No, it wouldn't," Jann answered my silent thoughts. "I'm telling you to accept this change in your life. It is permanent. As far as your life goes, all your dreams are no more."

I had none to begin with.

"Your relationships are severed."

Well, I could make up some sob story, say my mother would never stop searching for me, my father—

"I know your past, Charlie. Your mother is impatiently awaiting to collecting the life insurance she took out on you. And your father won't even know you're missing for an entire year. And even then, it would only be in passing. Your sister—"

"Wait a damn second!" I flew up to my feet, narrowing my eyes and staring at him coldly. "The hell do you know about my family?! Don't you dare—"

"Enough, Charlie," Jann put his hand up. "Do you think I would let a complete and utter stranger into my home? Do you think I know nothing of your past? Your disturbed family has no effect on me, nor do I intend on letting it become a burden to me. You would do well to do the same."

His eyes focused on me, and I couldn't pull my gaze away. As if he had my eyes in a vice. My heart raced inside my chest.

"I've put up with your pettiness for long enough. Control your mind and change your heart. You're only human, but you are capable of great change. Desist your naïveté and open your eyes. Now get out. Bengal is just outside of this room if you care to know about your human status. When you are informed of what needs to be done, I expect nothing less than perfection from you."


	3. Thursday Night

As soon as he released his stare, I all but ran from his office, closing the door behind me and stopping with my back to it, closing my eyes. How could he be so calloused? How could he say such things. How could he... know? I fought back the burning in my eyes. It would be inestimably embarrassing to be caught crying. I dug my nails into my fists, forcing myself to take a deep breath and hold it steady. Inhale, hold. And what about my sister? I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, willing the tears to push themselves back into its tear ducts. I shouldn't have interrupted him so quickly. But his words had sliced straight to the heart, I couldn't help it. Exhale. Self-control. He said I needed it.

And he'd mentioned that Bengal would be just outside? I recovered myself quickly, though my chest still felt internally shattered and frail. The muted wailing in my throat was merely a millimeter from imploding.

Opening my eyes, I looked around for someone in the dimness of the hallway. Only the foyer light was on sixty or so feet from me, and the decorative floor lights down the hallway were just that: decorative.

And indeed, there was someone in the hallway, standing only a few feet away, leaning on the opposite wall and staring at me.

I swallowed – my fear, my pride, my hurt, myself, and willed my expression to be still and calm. Maintain stoicism. I held on to our visual acknowledgement, and after the obligatory awkward sniff, I approached him.

"You must be Bengal," I said, stopping within reasonable personal space. This guy looked to be older than me, hair nearly black in the dimness, and his eyes just as dark. His arms were crossed, and I knew I wasn't welcome.

"You're done?"

It took a moment to process his directive. Was he a mind-reader, too? I prayed not. "If you mean with Jann, yes, go ahead and talk to him. I have a question for you, though."

"If this is about your wanted status by the police, then I only have two words for you: you're fucked."

"Why? I want to know what's going on."

"Two words, that's it. If you want two more words, it's this: fuck off."

I scowled. "The same," I grumbled and stalked down the hallway back toward the foyer.

I knew a bastard when I saw one. If that's what he wanted to give, then he would receive the same. And he was the one to keep track of human activities? It's a wonder there were any ghouls here at all. And he was Jann's second-hand man? What a dick.

I could hear the other two girls still in the kitchen, but now there were other voices in there, masculine voices. For a second, I thought I could hear Gabriel's voice, then I marveled at how I would even know to decipher his voice already. I hardly knew him. And then I chided myself for even having the slightest curiosity. But yet, he was the only one who'd shown any humanity to me around here. But it was to my room I was heading, and I strode past the kitchen, willing them not to see me.

The rest of the manse was silent and I hurried up the stairs with the group of freaks far behind me. I felt safer, though being alone wasn't my first choice. I had so many questions, but no one to answer them. I was fairly sure that the third door on the right was my room and I made a beeline for it. I wasn't in the mood to explore, I needed time to digest Jann's insolence, and come to grips with the supposed fact that I had no choice now but to be on the lamb from the authorities outside this front door.

I was nearly at the door when my senses collided with the visual contradiction in front of me. I saw him before I felt a slight breeze past me, and I stopped dead in my tracks not hardly four steps from my door.

There was Gabriel, his hand on the doorknob of the door to my room. My heart was in my throat, and it took a long second before I could put it back in its place. I put my hand to my chest in a futile attempt of containing the shock of his sudden appearance.

"Gabriel," I could hardly speak straight. "You... scared me..." I couldn't put my scattered thoughts into words.

He smiled, opening the door and reaching around to turn on the light. "Can't say I didn't mean to do that."

"Well, damn it, don't do it again," I retorted quickly, finding it easy to turn my embarrassment into irritation.

"Can't promise you that," he said, stepping inside the room and bidding me to follow.

I frowned, giving him a look of disdain, and went into my room. "I don't recall giving you an invitation to come up here, and secondly, you're making me uncomfortable." I stopped in the middle of the room and turned around to watch him close the door. His blue eyes were like crystal, boring into me and daring me to stop him.

"Don't flatter yourself, Charlie. I'm just playing hooky, if you know what I mean."

"I'm your excuse? Don't drag me into your problems," I sniffed, sitting down on the lone armchair near the bathroom and crossing my legs. "The last thing I need right now is to get on Jann or Bengal's bad side."

"So you did run into Bengal, hm. How was your sit-down with Jann?"

I wanted to be defiant, but then I realized that so far, Gabriel had been the only one to give me any sort of explanation to anything going on around here. And boiled down to brass tacks, he felt the least threatening of everyone here. Besides Jamie, but Jamie also gave me the impression that he was pretty clueless. Too nervous, that one. "You knew?"

"We know everything, Charlie," he shrugged, and went to my bed and sat down at the end to face me.

"Don't tell me you're a freaking mind-reader like Jann, too," I glared at him, really truly hoping he wasn't.

"Nah, that's Jann's talent. It's rare, so you don't have to worry about that too much. The most of us are perceptive, though, but trust me, not many of us can read minds."

I could hardly hide my relief. "Well, he wanted to remind me that I don't have a choice but to stay here and do what he wants me to do."

"Which is?"

"Eh, cooperate, that's all he said. Said that I'm a perfect candidate for something he's got in mind. Do you have any ideas what that could mean?"

"Anything else?"

I just asked you a question, you idiot. "No. He told me to ask Bengal about my criminal status out there, and told me I'm better off in here."

"And Bengal?"

I raised an eyebrow and fished out my pack of Marlboros, taking the time to light one up before giving him an answer. He paid no mind to his lighter in my hands. "Is he always such a douche?"

He smirked and shook his head. "That's just his way. Don't take it personally, we've all been there before. He either doesn't tolerate you, or he learns to hide his intolerance for you."

"Right, a dick. He never did answer my question about what's going on out there, he just told me that I'm fucked. That could mean a lot of things, nevermind the obvious house arrest that's going on around here," I glared at him before turning away to puff on the cigarette.

"You haven't thought of it already?" He folded his hands behind his head and dropped himself backwards onto my bed to stare up at the ceiling. "Old highschool mate comes up from the south, has the old friend meet her at some random location, then burns her up, setting the whole building on fire, and disappears. You don't think you're the prime suspect? Maybe it was an old grudge for an ex-boyfriend. Maybe you went off the deep end. Maybe you're a serial killer. But here are the facts: you specifically came up here to see her, and then you stupidly leave your vehicle at the scene of the crime. Maybe you panicked. It's so obvious. Hardly anyone's a veteran murderer, they always fuck up somewhere. And furthermore, Shand and Green had clean records, fabricated though they were. Yeah, I'd say you're royally fucked, and you did it all by yourself. Smart, that."

I sucked angrily at my cigarette. Of course it was, and the self-antagonizing was hell. "Yeah, that's what he said. And exactly how did I end up here on the witness protection program, inre Jann?"

"It's a good question, actually. I don't know. And I usually know everything around here."

I spotted a fleeting grimace on his face, and I filed it away for future reference. "If that's the case, then what does Jann want me to cooperate with? Is something happening? I know he's using me for something, but he never said what."

"Well," Gabriel picked up his head and perched himself on his elbows to look at me. "I'm sorry to say it, but you've basically replaced Brooke."

It just felt so wrong.

"Don't feel bad," he continued, not breaking eye contact. "It's a really simple thing, actually. But with Brooke, we ran into something of a hiccup. And, well, I kind of fucked up by pissing her off, but that couldn't be helped. I'm not getting into it. You two weren't too close, were you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you talk up about her. But the truth is, she had no friends. You know she was a ghoul, right?"

I nodded, scrutinizing his every word.

"And she told you these things about us without our assent."

"How'd you piss her off?"

"I just told you I'm not getting into it."

He wasn't so dizzy as he projected.

"And she should have never introduced you to us."

"That was the catalyst?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Some would say that. Next subject."

"You know, you're the one that followed me here, maybe you ought to change the subject."

He grinned, then turned to his side and made himself comfortable on my bed, facing me. "So here's the deal. We're Anarchs and we fight the system. You do our daytime dirty work, and we take care of the rest after the sun goes down. We're tracing someone who got too familiar with one of ours. We took care of the, hm, perpetrator, but we need to, as I like to say, snuff her. Sooner than we planned, but I think you can do it. I only think so, because you seem the queasy type, and Jann probably thinks so, too."

I dragged on my cigarette before answering. "If you're talking about last night, it was disturbing. I'm not innocent, but that's some... whacked shit."

He shrugged. "If you say so."

"Why 'snuff' her, what's so threatening about her getting too cozy with your sort?"

"She's Camarilla, and she'll snitch. Until this fundraiser on Sunday, we're making sure she's not snitching. And then that's that."

"Who is this Camarilla?" I leaned back in my chair, hoping for an interesting explanation. I watched his expression turn sour. Seemed like this was going to turn into that wishy-washy political mantra drivel from someone who'd seen enough of politics.

"Not a 'who,' a 'what.' They're the overlords of the kindred world. Making the rules, pulling the strings, that crap. The Ivory Tower, if you catch my drift. Then there's the Sabbat, but I'm not getting into that right now. We, I mean us Anarchs, are here to disrupt and ultimately throw their control into such chaos, that they'll keep shifting their positions and we can get rid of all the old bastards. And when I say old, I mean fucking ancient. It's time to put some fair-minded modern thinking people into power. We just want equality, not that word you used yesterday... what was it?"

I wanted to say who cares. I wanted to say that new powers only end up becoming a different face of the same old despotic rule. But I kind of didn't want to burst his bubble right now. "Nepotism. Go on," I gestured, sucking slowly on what was left of the cigarette.

"You're a cynic," he said flatly, giving me a dead-eye look.

"That's nothing new. So you're saying that if she tells the Camarilla cops or leaders or whoever about whatever your fellow Anarch bigmouth told her, you're getting in trouble? Like what, arrested, dead, what?"

"The final death, Charlie."

He said it so nonchalantly, I had to digest his words a second time. "Straight to hell?"

He nodded.

I nodded too. "This is why I have no interest in becoming some vampire, in case you wondered. Who the hell wants a curse like that?"

"Who the hell wants to live their life hunted and manipulated by the damned?"

I glowered at him, watching his eyes sparkle with humor. He didn't mean harm or insult, I knew, but the joke was serious. "And you're fine with that?"

"For a contemporary woman, I'm surprised you believe in heaven and hell."

I took my time to stub my cigarette out in the nearby candle dish. "Don't make assumptions of me. So tell me, how old are you?"

"Only fifty-eight."

"Only?" I gave him an incredulous look. Truth be told, he looked like a twenty-something year old Pitt, but that was neither here nor there. "When were you turned?"

"Back in the sixties. Hence, the extra thirty years. I've had a hell of a life."

"I'd love to know," I said, only half serious.

"It's not for you to know." He, on the other hand, was quite serious.

I shrugged. "Suit yourself, I won't pry if you're going to cry about it. So what will yous accomplish if you manage to kill this... what's her name?"

"Anita Hyde. She works for the Yale Art Department and she's way too loose for the Cammie's liking, and way too dangerous and loony for our liking. We make the decisions, not them. The Cammies aren't keen on killing their own, though they do it often enough," he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"One too many missed hits?" This guy was arrogance at its finest. Must be a Leo.

"Sure, something like that. You ask these questions like this is our major project of the year. Hon, Brooke's sorry end is hardly a blip on the radar in a week's time. This is all in a day's work."

I knitted my eyebrows together and glared at him, flared nostrils and all. "She lost her life for you freaks, her death isn't something to be taken lightly—"

"Didn't we get revenge for her? Don't you think?"

Again, the split second flashback of Shand's tortured body. I took a deep breath, reaching for another cigarette. "She's dead, and you can't bring her back. She's gone forever."

"You smoke too much," he said as he picked at his fingernails. "And no, nothing will bring her back, but getting rid of Hyde would be even sweeter revenge, don't you think?"

"You just said that," I grumbled, flicking my lighter.

"Brooke was supposed to lure her to us—"

" 'Luring?' Is that what I'm supposed to do? I don't _do_ luring, I'll have you know."

"Right, and you're not a washed up loser with zero aspirations and an unhealthy attraction to going against the grain. Get real, you'll do what we tell you to do only because you're curious of the outcome."

It took a moment to process what he said, and while initially I would've denied accusation, with each repetition of his words in my head, the more it resonated with my mind. Nearly a minute later, I managed to breathe out "You're a dick." Of course, he heard it.

"So where you from?" He asked, looking back up at me. Positively unfazed.

"Hoboken. You?"

"Central Jersey, you probably wouldn't know the town. Just a hee-haw from the fifties. Not like you cool city chicks."

I leaned forward, uninterested in the small talk. "Tell me how to block my mind from Jann."

He eyed me, then sat up, folding his hands. "Why?"

"Damn it," I growled. "You know damn well why."

"Put up a wall, that's all. Think of it literally, or mentally, whatever. Picture it in your mind, visualize it, blocking the eavesdroppers, and that usually helps."

"That's not helping me right now."

"It works for me as far as I can tell. I don't have those powers to read your mind, I'm not giving you a guarantee. That, and you're a human. I could've had that talent, but alas, that talent passed me by." His wistful frown turned into something more like an irritated glower.

"So only some of you have the mind-reading ability?"

"But where we lack in some areas, we make up for in others," he said, a smirk passing across his face.

I could curse my mind that tended to the gutter. "Like what?"

"Well, let's say you can read my mind, but you wouldn't be able to react to me—"

I suddenly found myself pushed back in my seat, his face much too close to mine for my liking. His nose brushed against my nose, his eyes glittering in the dimness an inch from mine. I tried to squirm away, but it was as if I were hypnotized, looking into his empty black pupils. I was paralyzed. My arm jutted out, the cigarette filter getting crushed in between my fingers as they nearly curled into fists. And immediately, I noticed that though his nose and mouth were brushing on me, there was no... breath. My heart pounded in my chest. With his hand on my sternum and the other hand gripping my arm, there was no way he couldn't feel my fear thudding inside of me.

"Celerity, my dear Charlize," he smiled. "There are things this almighty Jann cannot do. Tell me, did you see me move?"

I frowned, wishing he would move away. I shook my head quickly, trying to throw the hint that this was most uncomfortable. Of course I didn't see you move, you dick, because of your celerity or whatever you call it. Just like when you stalked me to my room before.

"Jann does not have this advantage. But," and this time, he did purposefully brush his lips against mine, letting it linger before he retracting a few millimeters. "This is our secret."

I scowled at him, then in less than a second, there was no pressure on me at all. And I was leaning back in an awkward position and my muscles could hardly catch up to sustain the pose without collapsing. I sat up abruptly, seeing Gabriel back on the bed, though this time sitting on his ass. "Means nothing," I mumbled, looking away.

"But remember, Charlie, we all have different powers. And many of us Anarchs are Caitiff."

"Which means what?" I questioned, wholly grateful for his abrupt dismissal of what just transpired between us. I took a hit from my cigarette. Had I only thought what just happened? Dreaded it? Daydreamed it? I wasn't even sure anymore. And that was only a few seconds ago. I studied his present behavior, but he acted oblivious.

"The kindred bloodline is so washed out, the inherent clan traits don't show themselves anymore. Of course, our clan weaknesses aren't there, either, so think of the Caitiff as a blank slate. Easy to manipulate."

"You sound... biased."

He looked down his nose at me. "Wouldn't you be?"

"So what are you then?"

"Toreador," he was suddenly remorseful, blatantly miserable. Toreadors must be the erotic thespians of the clans if they were anything like Gabriel, but I kept my mouth shut. "We're quick, but I hate my kind. Phony suckers, that's what we are."

And prone to the dramatic, too. How dare you philander me. "I'm sorry."

He glared at me. "I hate those words." He made motion to get up.

"Is Jann part of a clan?"

He turned his head slowly – an act that suddenly seemed strange, now that he openly demonstrated his talent – and gave me something of a deadpan stare. "Caitiff don't typically have talents other than running their mouths or being more freakish now than they were in their human lives. Of course Jann is part of a clan. The fucking Tremere."

I shrugged. "If you don't like him, then why are you part of his group?"

He looked away. "As if I have a choice."

"Of course," I smirked, pulling on my cigarette before putting it out. "You're an Anarch, an anarchist, you do whatever the hell you want – clan or not."

"Anarch, not anarchist. That's something different. We want fairness, not nothing at all."

"Right. So what's this Tremere? Different talents than other clans, I assume?"

He narrowed his eyes. "They're blood magicians. They're exclusive and weird, secret society shit. Apparently, this Jann left the clan. I question that, but so far, he's been working our group for over five years. But what's five years?"

"Five years," I shrugged, not considering the significance to a vampire.

"It's five minutes for us kindred," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Rhetorical question, darling."

"So you don't trust him."

"Charlie girl," he focused on me. "When you're kindred, you don't trust anybody at all. Only you humans trust us. You folks still have a sense of loyalty and honor. But even that's fading, I hate to say it. Not much worth to anybody these days," he trailed off, his eyes wandering into an imaginary distance.

No one had ever called me that. And I was mildly curious as to why his nickname didn't offend me but was rather an afterthought of that curiosity. And wasn't that the truth though. Humans were losing their humanity, even I noticed such a thing. At one time, a man was known by his word. Nowadays, words meant nothing and were more quickly forgotten than the crumb on the floor seen in passing. But now I was falling into his seemingly habitual musing of things off-topic. Blood magician, he'd called Jann. Well, that would certainly solidify the fact that it had been Jann behind the morbid "treatment" of Shand at that conference table. What were its limitations, if any? My heart and mind physically shuddered at the thought and self-protectively pushed it to the side. "And Tremere mind-read. Anything else they do?"

"Beside blood magic? Eh, they're good at controlling people. Dominate, it's called. Us Toreadors are good at it, too, but, well, it's not something I managed to pick up, either."

"Does Jann have this Dominate thing, too?"

He raised his eyebrow. "Yeah. It's why he's the boss, Charlie. He's no Joe Schmoe."

I lowered my brow in response. How much of our conversation was under his control? "Does Dominate mean he can control my feelings?"

"Let's just say he can be very persuasive," he lowered his head, maintaining eye contact and making himself look dead serious. "It's not necessarily mind or body control, but in a way... it's hard to explain. He can _suggest_ without bothering to talk, if that makes any sense."

I could only recall the unusual 'pull' I had to that sitting room Brooke had taken me to the first time I arrived here. Well, we were following Will. Or was that Jann summoning me to him? I had felt oddly out of control then. These so-called talents were starting to frighten me. More than I wanted to admit. Returning once again to the paranoia of having my thoughts read, I looked back to him. He was observing me, expression calm. So perhaps he couldn't read my thoughts. I was certainly in a panic, however. "Yeah, kind of makes sense, I think." I glanced to the clock on the wall behind the bed. It was only a little after nine, but I was already feeling drowsy. And entirely overwhelmed.

"Don't associate with Jamie, by the way," Gabriel exclaimed.

"I wasn't planning on it. But why, I'm curious to know."

"Jann knows he looks like your ex—"

"And how the hell would he know that?" I nearly jumped out of my chair, torn between being angry or upset at him for saying something so intimate.

"I told you, darling, I know pretty much everything around here. I am a Toreador, in case you've forgotten," he winked. "I'm not saying that Jann's jealous or anything, because I truly don't know what he wants for you in the long run – could be nothing at all, so don't be disappointed if... yeah. But I noticed the way he looks at you when you look at Jamie. Remember how he took over the conversation when you ran into Jamie the first time you were here?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Thought you were too busy sucking face with my friend to notice that."

He shook his head, grinning widely to himself. "I know everything, don't underestimate me. In fact, don't underestimate any of us. Just because most of us here are Caitiff doesn't mean they're no different from your average 'tough guy' out there." He stopped abruptly and I watched his mind go elsewhere in less than the span of two seconds.

"I think you've given me enough to digest for one night."

"You're kicking me out? So soon?"

"Don't mock me," I grumbled, fingering my pack of smokes.

"I thought we could get better acquainted," he shrugged, again making a motion to get up.

I glared at him. "For fuck's sake, Gabriel, you were just dating my friend two days ago, and you have the nerve to hit on her friend? You practically wrote her death sentence, and now you're sitting here trying to flirt with me? Get out!"

He shook his head, again with that arrogant look in his eye. "Is that what you think? But fine, I'm hungry anyway, looks like you're off limits for tonight. I'll find my own dish, maybe more cool than you city girl, hm?" He stood up, stretching and looking at me from the corner of his eye.

I, of course, didn't take my angry eyes away from him. Way to deflect your rotten behavior. Malocchio, Gabriel. Why you were ever named after an angel is beyond me. Or perhaps you gave yourself such a name, and you're nothing more common than a John Smith.

He smiled and made his way to the door.

Keep playing it cool, bastard. I'll find you out one day.

"Oh," his hand was on the doorknob when he turned to me. "And if you're turning in already, be prepared to be awoken an hour or two before dawn tonight. We're having a meeting about Hyde tonight. Just giving you a warning."

"Sure, whatever," I turned my head away from him, smoking my cigarette anywhere not in his direction.

"Sweet dreams, darling."

I could hear his handsome smile in his words, but I refused to look at him. And I heard the door close, counted to five before I looked in the direction of the door. It appeared as if he'd gone, though I could hear no footsteps. Perhaps that was his speed, that celerity, at work.

It took a while for me to let go of my grudge against his sitting on and contaminating my bed. But weariness overcame me sooner than my skeptical mind anticipated, and I had passed out on the bed by ten thirty.


	4. Friday, Pre-Dawn

And sure enough, I found myself being jostled to consciousness from a dead sleep at four am. No dreams, no memories, nothing. Just head on pillow in the darkness of the night, my body and mind struggling to recuperate from the day's vexation. And then somebody pulling on my shoulder, a few big shakes, then brief bursts of shaking. I forced my eyes to open.

I was hardly cognizant. Until it all came rushing back to me of why I was staring at some unknown slatted closet door, where the sliver of moonlight came in from the north windows instead of the eastern windows behind me (of which there none, unlike my old bedroom), and the cool slick feel of the satin sheets against my skin. I don't own satin sheets. Of course. This wasn't my house, my bed, and this was a stranger disturbing my human disadvantage for requiring sleep at a perfectly normal hour of four am, like the blue lights on the nightstand read. And I needed lots of this sleeping activity.

"Rise and shine, chosen one," a male voice said behind me.

I cringed, half out of fear, and half out of annoyance. Who was that creeping up from behind me? A mere half second passed before my synapses connected, and I realized that was Gabriel. I groaned, self-conscious and exasperated at the disturbance. "Just leave me a note in the morning," I grumbled, pushing my head into the pillow.

"Jann's not accepting a no for an answer tonight, so you better get crackin'."

I groaned again, rolling over to blink at him in the dimness of the night's half-moon. "At this ungodly hour? Seriously?"

"It's probably that inconvenient time in your life that you need to make a change to your biological rhythm. I told you earlier about this, don't say I didn't warn you. Now get up."

I'd dressed down before going to bed into a comfortable pair of loose sweatpants and a teeshirt. Not exactly presentable. I folded back the covers of the blanket and sat up, my back to him. "Think they'll mind me in my pj's?"

"Jann will mind if you're a minute late. Come on."

I cursed under my breath, feeling woozy from the abrupt awakening, my world going hazy and cold for a moment. I made peace with my racing heart and stood up, finding my slippers. I pictured myself sitting at the conference table in my pajamas and shuddered. I'd spotted a bathrobe in the closet earlier, and I went to retrieve it.

"Your minute's up, sunshine, let's go."

"Damn it," I growled, hastily sliding the dark blue robe off its hanger and turned around to face him. "This is embarrassing, okay?"

"At least pretend to be enthusiastic," he said, his eyes cold and bright from the moonlight.

"No can do," I mumbled, sliding into the bathrobe as I approached him. He turned around and I followed him out of my room, down the unlit hall, down the stairs, back into the foyer, and then turned left toward the room I'd first encountered them all. What a dreadful and unfortunate evening that was. I should've been more adamant about not accompanying Brooke here. How did I get dragged into all of this? Now I couldn't help but feel that my life was in constant danger, and that death was surely just one close encounter away. I watched Gabriel's backside, his fluid movements and confident gait. What the hell was I doing here? And what the hell is this, at 4am? When was sunrise? What did it matter? My mind focused on going back to bed as soon as possible, all the while knowing that whatever reason I had to be present at this meeting tonight would keep me up longer than I'd have preferred. And that was more aggravating. And getting aggravated meant a harder time going back to appreciating a warm and soft bed.

Sure enough, I could hear them in some sort of heated discussion before I could see them in that room with a fireplace. I'd just noted that I didn't hear the women right before I entered the room, because there were none. Nothing but vampires were seated casually at their respective sofas and armchairs, and as I glanced quickly around the room, I noticed that Jann was in that same seat again from where I'd first met him by that fireplace. Hidden in the recessed dark corner of the room, thanks to the dim lighting of the floor lamps. He said nothing, his eyes focused on the discussion at the coffee table. Or was he purposely ignoring me? What did it matter. The bed was still calling me. Let's get this over with.

Gabriel sat down at the sofa opposite Jann, leaving some room for me, of which I took obligingly. Already, I was able to fathom what this discussion between Bengal and some dark-haired dark-eyed young man beside him consisted of: whatever Bengal was proposing, he was against it. I glanced around at the other characters here, but no one paid me mind. My gaze lingered back to Jann, who was now staring listlessly off to some area beyond the ceiling. Well at least my bathrobe wasn't insulting anyone. I looked back to the dark-haired one, gathering my senses up to focus on what he was saying.

"I'm telling you, she's got no clout here. It'll be useless," he said, folding his arms and raising his nose.

Bengal leaned back, purposely feigning dismissal. "Noel is the only one that counts. No one gives a shit about what a Malk-wannabe thinks he knows."

To this, the dark-haired one snapped a fiery gaze at Bengal.

"Enough," Jann broke the thick air of tension. Many of those in the room, including Gabriel, aloofly turned to look at him. I swept my eyes around the room before I looked to Jann, my stomach wrenching into a knot when I realized he was looking directly at me. "If you haven't met her already, this is Charlene. She will be taking Brooke's place this Sunday evening."

"Another bad idea," the dark-haired one sniffed and looked away.

"Everything's a bad idea with you," Bengal growled, gripping the forearm of his chair.

"Better luck having me do it than her, look at her. Hopeless." the dark-haired one said, still refusing to look my way. A few others did look my way, however, and I looked back at Jann. Yes, I would ignore everyone. I didn't want to be here.

"Martin," Jann replied, his tone calm. "Everything is hopeless. The sooner you accept that, the happier you'll be. Some faith would do you well. Bengal, go ahead."

I looked back to Bengal, my eyes feeling like a pinball, and I didn't fail to forget our brief encounter earlier this night. It took all I had to contain the ire within.

Contrary to my feelings, Bengal appeared casual, as if he hadn't told me to go fuck myself hours ago. "Yale will be hosting a fundraiser for the arts department this Sunday evening at the Billingsby Manor. Since you aren't aware of this area, it's a well-to-do private restaurant located in downtown New Haven. You will go there this Sunday after six pm, alone. The amount of trust being placed in you for this is tantamount to your greatest endeavors. We will be watching."

Then why won't you let this Martin do it instead if it's so damn important, I grumbled. But I kept silent, awaiting to hear the rest of his orders.

"You have an assigned table there, and you will meet an Anita Hyde. Tall, dark blonde, green-eyed. Conceited and independent. She is a Toreador, which means she is kindred. This also means she possesses celerity, which gives her high speed potentials in all her movements. You need to be on your guard, and never let her use this ability."

I'm quite familiar with this 'ability.' And there's no way in hell I could ever stop her if she was anything like Gabriel. Go on with this ridiculous order.

"You need to get her away from the gathering, preferably into a private room upstairs. We will be tracking you, there's no need to keep us informed of your location or activities. When we capture her, your work will be done."

No questions? No courtesies, no nothing? "And how am I supposed to get her into this said room?"

He looked annoyed at my questions and met my gaze, his eyes an angry black. "Whatever you need to do. Your friend Brooke would have seduced her. Bribe her. Tempt her. Nobody here cares, just that you never speak of us."

"And what do I say is my reason for being there? I don't give two shits about Yale's art department."

His brows furrowed and he glanced angrily at Gabriel (why, I didn't know) before settling on Jann. "This incompetent? I swear on Gehenna, their stupidity is multiplying exponentially by the day!"

My blood boiled and I scooted to the edge of my seat. "When you're a pretentious fucking dick like yourself, expect the same behavior back!"

A deep fire burned inside his eyes when he turned back to me. Whatever boiled inside him, it was not something I wanted to stoke. "Then use your fucking brain, unless you really are that stupid."

"This wasn't my idea, none of this was!" I resisted standing up, the image of four am on the clock ghostly passing through my mind. It was way too early, or late, to get into a physical confrontation with someone whose eyes burned like this. "So don't expect me to know what you're trying to achieve here."

"I've said it plainly. Figure out the fucking rest," he growled.

"And who the fuck says I'm on your side? I got strong-armed here, what the hell am I getting out of this? Not even a thanks, I know!" I heard several snickers and I became painfully aware that I was so focused on my distaste for Bengal that I'd forgotten about everyone else in the room. Including Jann.

"There's only two options you have here, bitch," Bengal maintained his growl. "Do what you're told, or die. And I'll gladly fulfill the latter, because believe me, I played no role to have your presence here."

"But we work with what we get," Gabriel suddenly interjected, making most everyone's eyes turn to him. Some, I noted, were still aloof and disinterested, picking at their nails or watching their neighbor's faces. "It's not a hard task, you—"

At that particular moment, another entered the room from the same hallway I'd come from. He was of medium build, fair-haired and light-eyed, a face chiseled like a magazine advertisement. He immediately met my eyes and never left them.

"Time you showed up," I heard Bengal grumble.

But Bengal was ignored as this new guy ambled straight for me and extended his hand, in front of me quicker than I'd have liked him to be. I tentatively took his hand, and felt the anger fester inside as he dramatically leaned forward and kissed my hand. Another few snickers and sighs. "May I introduce myself, I am Alec. You must be our new lady, Charlene?"

"Yes," I said flatly, politely trying to withdraw my hand once he was done.

"It is an absolute pleasure. I had heard mention you a pleasant impression, but if my eyes do not deceive me, you are thoroughly alluring." His smile could slay a thousand admirers. But I was a thousand and one. And would he let go of my hand already.

"Cut the shit and sit down," Bengal interrupted.

I couldn't say I didn't agree with him.

Alec placed his hand over mine, turning his head to address Bengal. "Mind if I make her stay more enjoyable? God knows you've been nothing but condescending and a malevolent dissenter to this respectable specimen. You're so boorish."

Bengal growled, and I was beginning to see how his name became to be.

Gabriel interrupted Alec's soliloquy. "Sit the hell down, Alec, you're not fooling anybody."

And now I saw the color in Alec's green eyes turn a darker shade. He turned his head to the man sitting on the other end of my sofa. "Your woos are getting weaker, lovely Toreador. I know it hurts you to accept that no one pays attention to your so-called clan's lovely appeal, perhaps you ought to find yourself a new title."

I raised my eyebrow a millimeter and observed the spectrum of emotions that flashed across Gabriel's face. He finally settled on a calmness that seemed very much unlike him. "They have no role in my life."

Alec suddenly let go of my hand, turning to face the blond man, his back (finally) to me. "You can't fool us forever, Gabriel. I know your past, we all do. Jealousy is an ugly master."

Gabriel was suddenly confident and he leaned back, expression smug. "Keep displaying your masters for everyone here to see. If you weren't Bengal's bitch, you'd—"

Of course, he never got to finish that sentence as Alec suddenly roared in anger, lunging at Gabriel who sat across the coffee table from me.

"Enough!" The familiar voice bellowed above the crash of the coffee table. Alec had landed atop the armchair, but, it still surprised me, this celerity thing, I found Gabriel standing in front of me. I felt my heart thud in astonishment, but I controlled my body from twitching, and instead, I merely looked up at him. Jann stood up and I looked back in his direction. Alec was already getting down from the armchair, his face now an ugly mask of unadulterated hate. "Gabriel," Jann said sharply, his voice slightly raised. "Back to your seat, I will not have disorder. Control your tongue."

I thought I saw Gabriel's jaw clench, but then I was actually looking at a corner of the ceiling. Gabriel had already returned to his seat, Alec already uncomfortably jumping away when he felt Gabriel shoving him behind the knees. Gabriel said nothing. But it was Alec that had provoked him, not Gabriel? I hardly had time to comprehend this, for Jann continued.

"Charlene, your mission is not until Sunday evening. I am sure you'll find something sensible to provide to Ms. Hyde. This lady was hard to track down, but we have now been able to trace her for weeks." He approached me, coming to stop behind an armchair that seated a tall hollow-eyed middle-aged man. "She is Camarilla, and she is clever, do not underestimate her. She may be carnal and immature, but she is shrewd, much more than she lets on. You must choose your words carefully, and never let her know of your new acquaintances. You would undo months of our labors, and that is something we cannot afford. We are depending on you to bring her to us."

I supposed they couldn't have just kidnapped her somewhere and left me out of it altogether, but instead I said nothing and kept a stoic expression. Hardly a second later did I realize that Jann's gaze was reading my mind. Damn him... damn you!

"This is the way it must be done. There is no other choice."

Could I get a coffee or something? "And what if she doesn't take to me?"

"Oh," he looked at me peculiarly, as if observing me for the first time. And experience I wanted to forget, now I knew why. "I have no doubt she will be interested in you."

"Care to share?" I replied immediately, tired of these games. I felt the uninterested eyes of the room turn to look at me, maybe by my insolence, but I kept my attention on Jann who was hardly perturbed by the question.

"You have been touched—"

"I see nothing," Martin interjected, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward to look at Jann. "She's not even a ghoul!"

"There are things I see that you may not. I would not give away the ace before it can be played." He glanced at Gabriel.

I quickly looked at him, too, but Gabriel had purposely turned his head away from Jann and Alec, and consequentially, me. I couldn't see his expression, but it must have been grim, because Alec began laughing. "Where are _your_ powers of observation, Tory?"

Maybe there was some clout as to why Gabriel refused to tell me much of anything about himself earlier tonight amid all that bragging and self-lamenting.

To my disappointment at his weakness, Gabriel turned his head with a scowl on his face – but he was looking to Jann, not Alec. "I renounced myself for you," he hissed in a low voice. "None of this has anything to do with me!"

Alec guffawed, and even Martin shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Oh please! Maybe you're just not it! You need a memory check, let Jann do some prodding into that self-centered little orb of yours, hm? We're _dying_ to know."

Gabriel's nostrils flared and he glared daggers at Alec. And when I looked back to Jann, I was surprised to see a cold and malignant light in his amber eyes. "One of the girls will take you there on Sunday, Charlie. Our meeting is adjourned. All leave to your domains, except for you, Charlie. Stay a moment."

I was already getting up, and I was sorely disappointed at the order. But to hell with it, I was already provoked from the night's boding instructions, and also piqued by the group's scorn for Gabriel. What harm would happen from staying up an extra few minutes? Again, a coffee would be nice. Gabriel was the first to leave the room, followed by Martin who shook his head muttering to himself the entire time, and all but Will departed by the main door toward the foyer. Right, Will was the butler. Perhaps he was tending to the garden before sunup. Strange fellow. They all departed quickly and in moments, the room was dead silent except for my breathing and beating heart. I looked up at Jann who was taking a seat beside me.

"You all have something against Gabriel?" I questioned, not backing down. If I were to play such a so-called important rule, then I had a right to ask questions freely.

He nodded – I cringed – and replied, "They question his being a Toreador. Indeed, he possesses celerity, but it could be a recessive trait from his sire, as they all believe him to be Caitiff."

"You mean, no clan, no special powers?"

"Abilities," he said patiently.

His calmness grated me. "He's lacking in other Toreador abilities?"

He nodded. "Martin is Caitiff, but he possesses some Malkavian tendencies. A disquiet disposition, certain intuitions that are, for the majority, lacking in accuracy. But he is not a Malkavian, despite the similarities."

"And what do you think?"

"I am curious as to the cut on your throat from Shand."

I pursed my lips. That wasn't my question, but my mind traveled to the stippled scabbing down the side of my neck. "It's a scab, nothing to it. ...Maybe a little itchy, that bastard better not have given me an infection." Too late, I realized that this was probably this Dominate thing Gabriel was telling me about. What was my original question?

"That is my concern."

"You'll take me to the doctor?" And get me out of this haunted mansion?

"It's hardly a medical emergency. However, the observer in me has made me aware of this aberration to catch the eyes of Anita Hyde. So she will most certainly take an interest in you, human that you are."

"I don't see the interest. Is it that obvious someone used their teeth on me?"

"Not just a someone, my dear. A kindred, and as a Camarilla, it is her duty to know where you encountered one and lived to tell the tale."

"Ah-ha," it clicked. "So what am I supposed to say? I write in my journal, I don't write stories, you know. Missing that creative component there. I'm not good at coming up with stories, especially when they aren't real."

"Tell her the truth."

"But never mention you guys? Or the fact that you all kidnapped me?"

"Now you understand," he nodded. "We did not kidnap you, we are protecting you."

"From the police? Yeah, appreciated," I said, not excessively sarcastically, I hoped.

"From the Camarilla, Charlie. You have much to learn. They monitor all kindreds, Anarchs as well, though not all of us. Though Shand was an Anarch, they have already learned of and investigated his demise, and are still searching for his human apprentice. You know this. It seems you managed to escape before their met their fiery death. But they are still suspicious of all involved. They know of your presence there from the human's records, but are just as much at a loss to your whereabouts as are your police. The Camarilla are always watching, their eyes are everywhere."

"So how the hell did you get me out of there without them noticing?"

"Gabriel is indeed blessed with a healthy dose of celerity. Not even a Nosferatu can track his movements if he so wishes."

"Nosferatu?" I raised an eyebrow. "That snaggle-toothed creepy guy?" I raised my arms and hung my hands, wriggling my fingers.

"His character would be considered a kindred most concerned to looking handsome, by their standards."

I grimaced, my imagination casting peculiar imagery through my mind. "So you're saying that there's many of those weird looking guys?"

"They keep to themselves. They know they are hideous, but they like it that way. Not all of them are to be feared, but their intelligence supersedes many of us. Again, they would consider Hollywood's character as dull-witted. May I remind you that you are not starring in a Hollywood movie. There is only survival here, no happy endings. And justice is only a word."

"Does it have to be so dismal?"

"Have you ever found life to be beautiful?"

"It can be," I shrugged. "Nature is beautiful, and ignorance is bliss."

"Nature is indeed, but ignorance is death. Do not forget this. I would not have you oblivious. Anita Hyde is clever and will make you talk before you realize what you're saying. Be cautious the entire time. Do not allow yourself the liquid poison."

"You mean liquor? And you're making me think that this is the only reason you've kept me around. Why do you all want her, anyway? What's her big secret?"

"I'm merely trying to protect you. You've been talking with Gabriel?"

Did I say that? I felt that horrible feeling of talking too much. Is this what he was trying to warn me of? "Only a little bit earlier tonight, he's extremely vain, and miserable to boot. He didn't tell me much other than you guys don't want her to snitch or something like that. But he wouldn't tell me what you're doing with her if you guys catch her." And then I hoped he wouldn't enlighten me to an answer to the last question because the visual of Green sprouting into a blood fountain flashed through my mind. Would they do the same, or worse, to her?

It took a millisecond longer than it should have for him to answer. Was he looking at my thoughts? "Shand was Anita Hyde's plaything. His death may trace back to her, though if she gets her way, to us."

"Wait, are you acquainted with her?"

"We have no ties to her. But with your help, she will believe she has discovered something worth telling her superiors. That is why you are our key."

But... that made no sense. Something was fishy here. "But how would it lead back to you guys?"

"Your eyewitness, of course. And her unusual and irrational jealousy, a trait she is known for. If you control your words and do as I said, all will go well. This is an easy assignment."

"You're going to kill her?"

"It's not so simple. Killing a kindred is no light matter."

So they weren't killing her. Or were they? I sighed. Politics. How did I end up in such a shitty spot. "So you're not killing her."

"Only worry for your part. There are some things I need to finish before retiring for tonight. Do tell me if you are feeling anything odd. Prepare for Sunday night, but don't forget to enjoy yourself. The sooner you accept your place here, the sooner you will feel comfortable. There is nowhere else for you to go."

I wanted to argue his point, but I could think of nothing. For now. I gave him a parting blink and got up, thinking it strange that he watched me leave the room. Even as I walked down the hallway back to the stairs, I know he was observing me. I felt violated. I had a lot to ponder.


	5. Friday, Early Evening

I wasn't able to go back to sleep until mid-morning, and even then, my rest was troubled. Uneasy. I got up at 4pm, about an hour before sunset. I laid in bed for the first few minutes, feeling disheveled, staring up at the ceiling lit in purple and grey hues. There were droplets of rain on the window, it must have rained earlier, but now the sun was trying to break through the dark grey clouds. I felt utterly worthless, all my aspirations (had I ever had any?) had dissipated into nothing. This I felt more acutely now than when I'd been cruising up the Turnpike to this godforsaken city. College town. Whatever it was. I felt achy, and perhaps I was coming down with a cold. That would be great.

I slid the covers off, groaning as I sat upright, placing my feet on the cold floor. I had to do something. Shower. Find a purpose. I couldn't place how I felt, and it was frustrating me to the point of inactivity. I hated being in this state of deficiency. Nothing was under my control, I didn't know anyone, and I wasn't really interested in becoming friendly with any of these people... vampires. And vampire-controlled humans? Strange that they were all girls. And seemingly whacky ones at that. Was everyone here deranged? I glanced over to the night stand, grabbing a cigarette and staring at my dead cell phone. Was I really interested in going back home? Bayonne was my home, but there was nothing there for me. Even that my options were extremely limited at the moment, where would I go? Who would I turn to? I had no one at home, it was home in appearances only.

I sucked on my cigarette, feeling horribly alone and holding up the Himalayas of anxiety. On the verge of a big change in my life. But I was hardly convinced it was for the better. I'd come up to Connecticut because it was the only place far enough away to go to. I had no one in Jersey. No one in New York. And since Brooke's death, I knew no one here. I wasn't angry. I wasn't really feeling sorry for myself. All these things I thought anyone else would feel, and I felt nothing. Just hollow. A shell. Absorbing data, yet feeling nothing.

And what strange data it was.

I ashed into the water cup beside the bed, watching the soot disintegrate into shadows, leaving black stains at the bottom of the glass. Inhale, exhale. Watch the smoke unfurl. That was the worst aspect about this addiction. Eliminating the physical manifestation of visually expelling exasperation was the hardest thing to let go of. Enough. I needed to focus on what was given to me. Gabriel talked a lot. Jann spoke his fair share, too. But what did it all mean? What were they _not_ saying? What were they conveniently leaving out for me to discover? Was this cult going to be the death of me? I wasn't afraid of death, but who the hell wanted to die before they were half-bald with a thousand wrinkles on their body? Anything before that was a life not lived. No, I didn't want to die. But I would accept it if that were the case. I had nothing to lose.

Perhaps I was then, in fact, the perfect candidate like Jann claimed. I inhaled deeply, stretching, and stood up.

By the time I got out of the shower, it was a little after 5 pm. By the time I was dressed and out my door, it was nearly half after. I needed to obtain a Keurig for my room – or bathroom, at least. My head was hurting and fortunately, no one was in the kitchen. I was able to have my "morning" coffee and concurrent cigarette in peace, though I was constantly aware for any sounds that would indicate a disturbance to my much-desired solitude.

The anticipation wasn't too overbearing. A few minutes after finishing my cigarette and nearly halfway through my coffee, I heard the front door opening. I applauded my fine-tuned ears and managed to look desultory by the time the unknown intruder crossed the kitchen threshold.

It was Gabriel. He didn't seem surprised to see me, and I mentally patted my back for not showing any sign of surprise.

"For all your celerity, I'm surprised you still walk like a normal person," I jabbed, taking a sip of my coffee.

"No one to impress," he shrugged, approaching the counter island to stop and face me.

I eyed him, contemplating a comeback to his obvious dig. Confusing, these... vampires. "Had your breakfast already?"

He shook his head, a gleam in his eye as he met my gaze. "I prefer brunch. It's the weekend, you know. Places to go, people to see."

"Really now," I smirked, rotating my mug. "Mister Popular, hm?"

"Celerity isn't my only forte," he said, crossing his arms and leaning on the marbletop.

"I see nothing," I snubbed.

"It's called Presence. Irresistible."

"It's not working," I glowered, flaring my nostrils to hide a snicker, raising the mug to my mouth.

"Only when I want it to."

"Seems everyone questions your abilities and vampire talents," I eyed him, setting my mug down to study his reaction.

It wasn't a good one. He scowled, looking most ugly in the process, and he balled his hands into fists, looking at the darkness outside the window. "They know nothing, and neither do you. Don't ridicule something when you have no idea what you're talking about."

"It was just an observation, relax," I frowned. "I noticed last night, everyone, even Jann, seems to resent you for it." Wording was key. And it worked.

He looked up at me. "You're damn right they resent it. But like anybody with flesh and blood, no one has a choice what they've inherited. I'm no different than those Caitiff... just, excelled in areas they're not. And if they work hard enough at it, they can gain my same abilities, too."

I leaned forward, anticipating this to be a sensitive question. "Were you Camarilla before you came here?"

Expected emotional response in the single second that passed: first, anger; second, guilt; third, fear; fourth, denial; fifth, realization. Sixth, stoicism. "No."

"Mm-hm," I nodded. Sure you weren't. That's why you get miffed anytime it comes up. "No judgment here, Gabriel. I have no idea what you all are about, Camarilla, Caitiff, or whatever else you mentioned yesterday. All the same vampire shit to me."

"That's the farthest thing from the truth," he suddenly interrupted me. I looked up him in mild surprise, studying his unexpected reaction. "You can't make such a presumption. You've known us for hardly a day and you're spewing generalities. How ignorant. I thought more of you."

I shook my head. "It's an initial observation."

"I'm going out tonight. Come with me. You'll see."

I waved my hand. "Pass."

Gabriel leaned toward me and I warily glanced at him. "Yes," he said softly. "I think it'd be good for you." A peculiar gleam, the coy kind, flitted through his crystal blue eyes.

He did mean it, I had no doubt. I narrowed my eyes at him. Was this that irresistibility thing he was talking about? But I wasn't a sucker for him, no matter how hard he tried or how close he got to me. "Really, I'm not interested. I'm not keen on watching you people drinking blood and... shit."

"It's a club, no strings attached. Just a bunch of Anarchs with their girlfriends and boyfriends. Not an all-nighter. We – or you, anyway – will be home by three. You're human, after all."

"Three a.m.? I need all the sleep I can afford."

"Funny. You don't have any bills. Rent's free, and you don't even have a job."

"That's why I need to be able to afford it."

"This is your work now. Come with me. It'll be fun."

I drained my coffee and lit a cigarette, exhaling the smoke toward him. "Bunch of Anarchs? So mostly you vampires?"

"Half and half, maybe more humans, maybe less. Maybe you'll find something for yourself, you never know. It's a basement club, nothing crazy. Closing time is five. Drinks, dancing, there's a private smoking court, come on. Not like you have anything better to do. You already switched your bio clock to our time."

"You don't know that," I countered, looking at him from the corner of my eyes.

"It's your morning coffee. You just got out of the shower, your skin is still warm from the hot water, fresh eyeliner and mascara, and your eyes haven't fully shed their puffiness from a bad sleep. I wasn't born yesterday. Fifty-eight, remember?"

I could only control a steady inhale to mask my wonder at his acute observation. I managed to turn it into a scoff at his age. What was fifty-eight to, say, one hundred and fifty-eight? I would maybe take him seriously if it were the latter.

"I'm a vampire, Charlie, don't think we're your average human."

I rolled my cigarette between my fingers, watching him.

"Some are more easily fooled than others, but not me."

"Because you were Camarilla?"

"I'm not, I said so already. You're coming with me tonight."

"I never agreed. And you won't force me to go with you. What's in it for me? Nothing."

"Right, assume before deciding. Makes an ass of yourself. Drinks are on me, how about that."

"What if I said I don't drink?"

"That'd make you a horrible liar," Gabriel shook his head, smiling, and not taking his eyes off of me.

"And what does that make you?" A mere heartbeat passed before I put my hand up, silencing his retort. "Yeah, I know, a good liar. Whatever. I don't care if the drinks come in diamond encrusted highballs. I'm not going with you."

"See, you lie," Gabriel grinned.

"Even I don't even have to see your face to know you're a terrible liar," a man suddenly voiced from the kitchen doorway. "You need to work on your game, Charlie."

I looked up, my heart falling in contempt when I realized I was looking at Alec, standing in the doorway grinning and tipping his beanie at me. "I don't give two shits about my game," I said sardonically, watching him round the counter island and approach me. Oh geez. I looked back to the door, hearing some more characters entering the kitchen. The stool beside me scraped aside. Something wasn't right, but the waving hands and eager face of Lin distracted me. Beside her strolled in Bengal, scowling as usual, and to a flicker in my heart as Jamie followed the pair. No. Not him.

"Stockholm tonight, Gabe?" Alec broke the spell in my mind and I turned to him, irked to find him sitting on the stool beside me, leaning an elbow on the countertop, thoroughly relaxed with his legs splayed out. Dark skinny jeans, his blond hair slicked back, a leer lurking behind his light eyes that flickered quickly between everyone he faced except for me. Shifty. Untrustworthy. Shady. He skeeved me the more I watched him despite those Vogue androgynous sensual features of his.

"You weren't planning on going alone, were ya?" Jamie exclaimed, walking up to the counter beside Gabriel... farther away from me.

Gabriel elbowed him, grinning, and I sighed internally, rolling my eyes and looking away. Here we go with the juvenile antics and corny dude interactions that keep me from watching any television or going to social gatherings of my peers. I noticed Lin smiling at me, approaching me. "Are you coming with us, too?"

"I'm, eh," I shrugged, "not really interested, actually."

"There's nothing else going on tonight, you might as well. You're just going to sit here all night long? Have a drink and relax," Lin proffered, sidling up beside me.

"Yeah, get to know us better, we're not so bad, really," Alec nudged me.

I detested every movement I made to turn and look at him. "Maybe I don't want to get to know you guys better."

Alec laughed easily, but there was a harshness to it that felt... feral. "We don't bite, seems you're one of us so we wouldn't do such a thing to you." He leaned closer to me and it took all my willpower not to shy away from the darkness in his eyes. "Unless you want it. You just let me know." He grinned, pulling himself back.

I scowled at him and turned away, not neglecting to see Gabriel eyeing us. His eyes were feral, too, and a chill shivered down my back. I looked back to Lin, leaning toward her. "Keep me away from this guy?"

She waved her hand, not insincerely. "He's harmless. He couldn't touch you even if he wanted to. Jann's got his hand on you, trust me." She locked her eyes with mine. "There's no way in hell any of them are touching you."

"We going?" Bengal declared. He was still hovering by the kitchen entrance, arms folded. Watching us, I presumed. Fucker.

"Yep," Gabriel slapped the table, straightening himself up and looking at me. "Let's go, Charlie. No point in sitting here. You'll run out of cigarettes before you're ready for bed. You'll come with me and Jamie."

"More room in my car," Alec said, bumping me as he stood up. "You really want to ride with that miserable fuck?"

"I prefer his misery to yours," I screwed up my nose and stood up, following Lin around the counter opposite Alec. But despite Gabriel's offer to save me from Alec's licentious offers, he'd already exited the room with Jamie in tow. Alec quickly approached me, nearly cutting me off from the doorway.

"Don't fall for his shit, Charlie. I'm sure you're familiar with the 'poor-me' shtick. Gabe's good at that. If you don't like the Stockholm, where we're going tonight, you tell me. I'll take you somewhere nice, someplace fancy. No kindred around... except for me, of course. Can't say the Stockholm's the nicest place, but I'll keep my eye on you. If you want."

Changing tones now, were we? "Yeah, sure, I'll let you know." I tried to move around him, but he moved with me.

"Honest now," he smiled. "A nice cafe, you and me."

"I said I'll think about it," I said flatly, deliberately moving around him this time.

He smiled, the savage gleam returning as he let me pass.

I'd noticed they'd gone the opposite direction from the foyer, past Jann's office. Bengal had just disappeared to the door at the end of the hall, and Lin stood by, stopping to wait for me. She looked behind me knowingly, shaking her head as she gave a half-smile. Alec was right behind me and I acknowledged her knowing look with an eye roll. I followed her closely down a short dimly lit corridor. Looked like a laundry room to the side, and I could smell the cool night air coming from the door at the end. I heard a car engine start up.

Of course, a garage. This wasn't the eighteenth century, did I expect them to still be working a horse and carriage? I paused at the doorway, looking down at the three bays. Silver Audi, black Jeep, black sporty Mazda. Gabriel had started up the Mazda, Bengal was just stepping into the Jeep. Alec moved behind me smoothly, silently, gliding down the stairs and heading toward the Audi. Figured he'd have something shiny and snazzy. Well I preferred the sleek black mirror anyway. And how thoughtful, Jamie had taken the back seat. As I approached his car, my stomach grumbled. Maybe they served a pork roll egg and cheese at this place.

"Is he always so obnoxious?" I asked as soon as we pulled out of the manse. The roads were wet but at least it had stopped raining. It felt like I hadn't been outside in years. Technically, it'd only been a night. It just felt so odd.

"Ignore him. As in, don't even respond to him if he tries to talk to you," Gabriel shrugged, tailing close behind Bengal's Jeep.

"I don't like the look in his eye," I said, bracing myself in the seat. Nice ride, but he liked those sharp turns a little too much and punching the gas a little too hard for my diminishing sense of safety. This was turning into a gravity ride.

"That's why you don't give him any attention at all. And he's a bitter skeeve to boot."

I frowned and hoped I'd never get caught in a room alone with that guy. Whatever Lin said, I didn't believe him to never dare to lay a finger on me. "Where's Jann tonight?"

"Don't know. Friday nights are ours unless he says otherwise. We start the weekend off on a good foot, release some steam, you know, all that good stuff. You got a plan for Sunday?"

"I... think so. I guess I'm allowed to tell her everything except for the fact that I know you guys."

"And what else did he tell you?"

I eyed him, the streetlamps strobing his features. "Why, what are you not telling me?"

"Don't underestimate a Toreador. She's the real deal, as weird as she is. Mental issues without a doubt, but she's still strong. Personally, I don't think you know what you're in for."

I gave Gabriel a raised eyebrow. "I'm supposed to get her alone in some room upstairs, and that's that, right?"

"I won't be there, by the way."

"Oh no?" I looked at him. "Why's that?"

"Jann's orders."

And could it be because she might recognize her own kind? I said nothing and instead resumed looking out the window at the fluorescent colors of the night. "So what am I in for, then?"

"She has presence, celerity, and maybe even dominate. The girls have been tracking her and her ghouls in the daytime, we've kept up with her at night. She's a smooth talker, and she's all about smooth-talking her way into your bedroom. Likes to leave a lot of ghouls stumbling around after her. That's how she managed a spot on the board in Yale, I'm sure. Politics, baby, it's all about politics. And sex. And money. Three biggest talkers in the world."

"I hate that," I grumbled.

"It's all built on lies, and more lies to cover up the lies, so you don't even know what's a lie. Best way around that is to assume everything's a lie."

"What's all built on lies?"

"Anything that has to do with money, of course."

For a 'bro' kind of guy, he wasn't so dumb. I looked at him. "And what about you?"

"Me?" He glanced at me, proud. "I just like to watch them swoon. You haven't seen me out there, hon, just watch. Watch and learn. Right, Jamie?" He sat up to look into the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, dude," Jamie agreed from the back.

I shook my head and studied Gabriel's face. "If you have such presence, then why doesn't it work on me?"

"Maybe I don't want your attention, ever thought of that?"

"That's actually quite considerate, thanks." I meant it.

He leaned toward me, grinning. "I'm not _always_ a scumbag, you know."

"Only when it matters," I finished for him, making him laugh. "Yeah, I know your kind." Not so much the poor-me type like Alec stated, but the dick who seemed to have brains and claimed not be a dick, but he really was a dick through and through. The only people that mattered to him was himself, and those who could prop him up taller. And once they were done working for him, he'd discard them. Very easily at that. Yes, Gabriel, I know your kind. Suave egomaniac.

"I think I should be insulted with a statement like that, Charlie."

Did I hear a hint of humor in there? "Probably. Just, don't be a dick, alright?"

"For you? Never," he winked.

I felt most assuredly unassured.


	6. Friday Night

On a seedy-looking street, we pulled up to our parking spot right behind Bengal. I had no idea where we were, which was merely the beginning of the cause for my unsettled stomach. I immediately lit a smoke the moment I stepped out of the car, quickly avoiding the puddle between the concrete and the curb. Steam billowed out from the manhole beside the car. An earlier rainshower had left the three-storied brick and mortar buildings that walled us in glistening in the cold air. Neon signs advertising drinks, girls, and everything reserved for the nocturnal hours, bathed the wet sidewalk and street in lucid greens and blues. I exhaled slowly, my smoke mingling into the misty city air. It smelled of exhaust and wet concrete. The cool air fortunately masked the fermenting garbage piled inside the alleys.

Jamie got out but made no motion toward me, and Gabriel rounded the car and approached me.

"This is pretty grimy," I said to him, watching Lin and Bengal get out. Alec was nowhere to be seen, he hadn't followed our path since we pulled out of Jann's manse.

"So it ain't no five star establishment, but it's no hellhole, either. Stop being so negative. Come on." He began walking toward Bengal and Lin. Lin was chattering away while Bengal straightened his light jacket, eyeing us as we came near.

"You, Charlie, don't go running off. Stay in the main room, and if you gotta go to the facilities, go with Lin. That's an order."

"No hellhole, you say?" I said, looking up at Gabriel. "And what if you all leave? Or someone snatches me?"

"We'll keep an eye on you," he growled, turning his back and walking away.

"That's what Alec said," I snirked, glancing at Gabriel as we began following him. "And he doesn't even show up!"

"That's Alec, he'll be here later, unless he thinks he's got no chance with you."

"Oh yeah?" I made sure Lin was far enough away and still yapping to Bengal so she wouldn't overhear. "She," I nodded toward Lin. "Said that he would never touch me, because it's obvious that Jann's got his hand on me."

"Is that so?" But his expression was nonchalant.

"Well does he? I'd like to know what you guys have in mind after this Sunday."

"Hm," he shrugged. "Maybe throw you to the werewolves. Who knows. You know too much already, so don't think you're going back to being a regular nine-to-five human again. Ever."

"I haven't ever considered it," I said with a smile. That threat had been said to me plenty of times already, but I couldn't imagine that ever becoming a reality. And even if I did understand it, it still made no sense. I couldn't understand it.

"You'll have to, one day," I heard him say, and he began walking ahead of me.

I let him go. They had just rounded the corner and I saw the green glow that read "Stockholm" with an arrow pointing to the ground a few yards ahead. My heart raced in time with the thumping music I could hear coming from the lower levels. Bengal and Lin were already descending the concrete steps, Gabriel right behind them. I was a few paces behind him and Jamie was in step behind me. I turned to him, trying to ignore the sudden waves of fear that began to assault me. I sought a little solace in Jamie. For now, he was still neutral territory.

"You've, uh, been here before?"

Jamie glanced down at me, his face expressionless. "Yeah. Kind of dingy, but it's alright. Just listen to Bengal, okay? We don't want no trouble."

It was hardly reassuring. I paused at the top of the stairwell, looking down at the string of buzzing lamps that sat at precarious angles along the piping and loose wires. The steps led down to a somewhat long corridor glowing in a sickly yellowish green, a flickering yellow arrow pointing to the left for the club entrance. Other doors lined this corridor on the opposite side. Garden apartments? What was this seedy spot all about? And my heart wouldn't stop pounding. The music suddenly became louder and clearer for a second. The others must have reached the door and opened its maw. Jamie still walked alongside me, and for that, I was grateful. Someone came strolling out into the corridor, a goth punk-looking lanky guy in faded skinny jeans and a black leather jacket with all sorts of pins and colorful crap littering the front and back of it. Long black spiky hair drifted across his face and I dared to glance at him as he squeezed past us. Was he human or vampire? I couldn't tell. He only glanced at me. Weren't vamps supposed to have some abnormality to their eyes? Glowing? Bright colors? I looked back to Jamie. His eyes looked perfectly normal to me.

"Come on, just get a drink inside and sit at the bar. Don't be scared."

"How kind," I said, unable to muster up a smile. No, there was nothing special about his eyes. But there was something peculiar in the air around him. Odd that I'd never noticed it before. Perhaps it were the fluorescent lights, but there was something pale about him, an insipid sort of feeling I got. When I blinked, there was nothing about him. But it had to be the lights. A phosphorescence from inside? I didn't have time to think on this anymore as we quickly closed the distance to the end of the corridor.

This close up, the flashing arrow nearly blinded me. I quickly turned away from it, trying to blink away the seared pink arrow inside my eyelids. The steel-framed door, tagged and rusted, leered up in front of me. There was no doorknob, just the flat of a steel plate. One-way exit. I pushed the door open, expecting the worst but hoping for something bearable.

The house music was horribly loud, the lights were way too low and spaced too far apart for my liking. I noticed there wasn't a greeter, but I let the suspicion pass. The bar island was better-lit than the rest of the place, rivaling the flashing dance floor on the opposite end. Two glowing triangles behind the island for the latrines. The room looked to be twenty by forty, maybe a little longer. Strobes in one corner, sofas along this wall, and I hardly noticed anything else as Jamie urged me to get out of the narrow foyer and into the main room. I couldn't even spot the other three, they'd already disappeared into the fluid shadows that drifted around the room. Amid the bass, a cacophony of voices, laughter. But there was a pervading sense of gloom, a thickness in the air. And here, I realized that there was no cigarette smoke lingering around. Not a good sign, for I suddenly got the urge to light up again even that I'd just thrown my half-finished cigarette into the alley. Damn these places that banned smoking.

I turned to Jamie and nodded toward the bar. "Come with me?"

"Okay," he agreed, scanning the room and then following me to the end of the bar where a few stools were empty. The tender eyed us as soon as we sat and strolled quickly over to us, rubbing his hands with a cloth.

"What'd you like?"

He had a thick Boston accent. I studied his eyes, but saw nothing special about them, either. "Vodka and juice. Cranberry, if you have it," I said.

Jamie waved his hand, and the tender moved away.

I leaned closer to Jamie. "Is he one of you guys?"

He looked at me. "No."

"How can you tell? Your eyes don't have anything special about them like, you know, how they do in the movies and shit."

He smirked, genuinely awkward and self-conscious. "Yeah, pretty sure everyone's been telling you that we're nothing like that. Makes me glad, though. We'd be screwed if everybody could notice us just like that," he said, snapping his fingers.

"Pretty silly, if you ask me." I refrained from mentioning that effervescent thing. There was no glow about him anymore, but I knew I had seen something, perceived something. I had _felt_ a color to him, pale and subtle as it was. This Jamie, well, he was your typical dude. Couldn't have been a vampire too long, he was younger than me. Who turned him? Did I even care? The tender returned with my drink and before I could contemplate what was in my pockets, Jamie had already placed a few bills on the table. The tender took it without a word. I tilted my glass to Jamie. "Why thank you."

He nodded, his eyes traveling away, maybe searching for Gabriel or a familiar face.

That was a strong drink, maybe even 50/50. It assaulted my throat like knives, burning and churning when it slowly permeated my empty stomach. I hadn't been expecting that. Maybe these dives were dives for a reason, at least up around here. Again, another anomaly, that while it was after 9pm, this drink would be considered my breakfast. Terrible. My diet with these bloodsuckers was off to a bad start already. "I'm going to need a smoke again," I said to Jamie after taking another sip. If I were to have a drink this strong, I'd need some noxious smoke to take out the bite.

"There's a courtyard in the back," he turned around and pointed to a door I hadn't noticed, and above it, a neon sign with chasing colors that read 'Syndrome' glared back at me. "You can smoke there."

"Thanks, that's perfect." I grabbed my drink, but paused when I noted a red-haired girl slide into the stool next to Jamie, her mouth all smiles for him, her eyes never leaving his. She slurred something to him, her hands already on his, massaging and inching its way up. And to my disbelief, I watched Jamie respond to her in an equally shameless manner. Well that was totally unexpected.

I slipped away unnoticed, thankfully. The door to the courtyard was a mere ten to fifteen paces away, and I'd only managed about four paces before I noticed Gabriel in the nearest corner of the room. A few bodies shuffled passed me as I stopped mid step. The strobes and colored lights were barely reaching my ridiculous vantage point, so I figured I could afford trying to blend in with the shadows for a moment. Gabriel was leaning into the corner, a glass in hand (empty, though I'm quite sure it couldn't have been drunken by him), and in the corner facing him was a bashful but coy girl, probably no more than 21, folding and unfolding her hands as she spoke to him. She was a pretty little thing, and made no qualms to conceal her attractive and curvaceous figure. She was nearly falling out of her shirt. It was all a game to her. And Gabriel was nearly falling into her shirt. Titter, laugh, avert her eyes, look at him from the side, I watched it all, suddenly aware of the slick condensation my highball perspired.

I couldn't understand the sudden speeding of my heart, the prickles of heat on my neck. Oh, it was jealousy, no doubt, but jealousy for who? Brooke? Certainly, it couldn't be me. But wasn't he supposed to be irresistible? But never to me? Why? I inhaled sharply and grit my teeth. What was I thinking! This was a friend's ex, and said friend was dead... because of him! The sudden hail of contradictions flew at me from all directions and I took a quick sip of my drink and began again for the door. Someone scrambled to get out of my way, hissing as they turned to glare at me, though I paid them no mind.

What the hell was I doing here. Either the liquor was already getting to my head, or the sight of Gabriel doing I-don't-know-what was confusing my train of thought. Had to be the former. I wanted it to be the former. My stomach was thoroughly burning now, and I nearly stumbled through the door with the racing Syndrome sign above it.

There was fresh air. It wasn't the breeze atop a mountain, but the swirl of trapped air in a twenty by twenty open courtyard with forty foot walls around on all four sides. An architectural excuse to allow more daylight into the upper-floor apartments. God only knew what the residents saw here every night, if there were any living here at all. It all felt like a phantasmagoric nightmare. I had no idea where I was, everyone and everything was foreign and hostile. People I knew, I didn't really know. And all that I did know was turned on its head and convoluted. I was a fool.

I fumbled around for my cigarettes, finally finding it while trying to keep my glass steady, and nearly dropped the cigarette before I could light it. The click of the butane lighter reminded me that Gabriel had given it to me. Damn that Gabriel. Had this been a gift from Brooke to him? Another ex-girlfriend? The rose, it was passion. Shakespeare's quote, it was a dead giveaway for the feelings of another. Certainly not for me. I exhaled the smoke, finally feeling far more relaxed. My stomach unknotted itself. I sidestepped to the brick wall beside the door, staring up at the overcast night, the dark blue sky showing through miniscule windows in the dull heavy clouds. I heard voices, and though my heart wished everyone out of my presence, I forced myself to lower my gaze back to earth, to review what scum awaited me down here.

A group of three in one corner, a couple near them, four beside the two benches on the far side, and another couple on the opposite end of the door from me. I edged away from the wall lamp, sucking on my smoke and hoping no one cared to look my way as I tried to meld myself into the shadows on the cold brick wall behind me. My lack of a coat in this brisk October evening sent a shiver through my arms. The liquor would warm me. Eventually.

But why? That question kept pounding into my mind, beating at me like waves. Why would I be offended if Gabriel was flirting with another? Why should I care? I should be happy he's not trying to suck me dry like he probably intends on doing with that girl. But he was physically hitting on her. Well how else would he gain her trust, inebriated as she certainly was? I could see him an attractive man, yet I felt nothing for him but mild disdain for his arrogance. And so why did I feel those pangs of jealousy that were much akin to seeing a person of interest talking with another?

I inhaled, exhaled, then physically shivered again, nearly violently. A reaction to the sour mixture of cold, liquor, and anxiety. I took a fluid step to the side to hide the embarrassing manifestation of the chill in my bones. In the corner of my eye, I noticed the group of four males suddenly turn to look my way. A knife stuck in my throat, and even that I looked down at my feet, I knew they were quickly on their way toward me.

"You, yeah, you!"

I averted my eyes away, feigning ignorance. The steps came closer and closer, but I kept my face still, praying they'd get the hint and leave me alone.

No such luck. I could see four pairs of shoes surrounding me. And my back was to the wall.

So I finally looked up.

Four pairs of eyes stared back at me. The tall one spoke. "What do you think you're doing?"

I met his glare with an equally shriveling glare. Were they vampires? Posers? Wannabes? Oblivious? There was something... It was only a millisecond, but I saw an ever so slight light at their center. red, it seemed like. Almost as if I saw it behind him. Or he was translucent. My eyes weren't playing tricks on me, but my second and third thoughts had a hell of time trying to convince me otherwise. So what did these guys want? "Having a cigarette, what the hell does it look like I'm doing?"

I didn't expect an answer so quickly. "Looks like you're playing hooky."

Weird. "I needed fresh air." I left it at that, hackneyed as ever.

"Never seen you around here before."

That could mean: most of the people here were regulars, and therefore, I stood out like sore thumb; or they were bluffing and trying to get me pissed. I was hoping for the latter, though I had an inkling it was the former. "Never seen you here before, either."

"Of course, dipshit," a shorter guy, dark hair and dark eyes, stepped forward, a definite flash of red splicing into his visage, further disorienting me. His expression was cold and hostile. "Because you've never been here before. Who you come in with?"

Ugh, gangsters, my favorite human specie. "None of your damn business."

He took another step toward me, now hardly a foot from my face. I could smell a mild liquor to his breath, though otherwise, the cold evening made me vibrate again, though I did my darndest to conceal it.

I took a drag of my cigarette, watching him.

"It's damn well my business. How'd you find this place? You don't tell me who you with, you're not going to like what I gotta do to you."

"Then don't fucking do it," I growled, exhaling a lot of smoke to the side.

His arm flew toward me and I shut my eyes, bracing myself for something painful. But instead, I could feel the palm of his hand fly past my head and smack against the brick wall. There was a message there, to be sure. When I opened my eyes, his face was nearly touching mine. "Tell me now, or you'll regret this day forever."

The hell was so important about it? "I came here with a couple of Anarchs, damn it, the hell is it to you?" I pulled angrily on my cigarette, staring daggers at him. Wishing my cigarette were longer so it would singe his face. But he so hardly as flinched, the orange embers making his dark eyes glitter with a menace.

"We're all Anarchs here, asshole. Last time, moron, who you with?"

Maybe they thought I were a spy for the Camarilla? That was their enemy, if I understood correctly. That would make sense for his antagonism. But who to deflect to? "I'm not Camarilla, if that's what you're asking."

His palm hit the brick again, his eyes began raging.

There was a glow in him now, there was no denying it. It radiated from the center of his chest, and the surge lasted a couple of seconds before it dissipated into the gloomy evening. Unfortunately, I spewed out the first name that popped into my head. "Gabriel, damn it, I came with him." As an afterthought, did it really matter who I said? It wouldn't have changed his sudden change of expression from anger to scorn, his laughing echoing across the courtyard.

"That asshole? Oh god, I feel fucking bad for you!" He laughed again, his three other buddies laughing with him. Laughing at me. To the point of it being overdone. Corny bastards.

But there was nothing I could think of saying. Why the sardonic reaction?

"You poor girl, I hope you didn't fall for that guy!" He sniggered, leaning casually on the wall beside me, feigning pity. He motioned toward the inside of the club. "I guarantee you he's in there right now schmoozing it up with some sucker. Explains why you're bumming out here. Bet you're used to getting shit on."

The visual memory of Gabriel doing just that was the telltale sign that my mouth was to be kept shut. It didn't matter anyway, as he just kept going on. Dick.

"That Gabriel's good at that. Heart breaker. Blood thief. Poser. Loser." The others snickered at his while I pulled on my cigarette right down to the filter. "Did he bring you in as his date?"

I shook my head, flicking my cigarette yards away. There was a satisfaction to that action that non-smokers would never know.

"Uh-huh, so you came with his dumbass 'friends,' eh? Meet his boss yet? Jann, that Slavic double agent?"

This time, he waited for me to answer, and so I did. "Yeah, and so what?"

"So what you think of him? Kinda freaky and creepy, right? He try to kill you yet or what?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I really didn't.

"He hates everybody, it's his number one thing. Besides his other issues, but I won't embarrass you. You're just uh, what's the word, un... un-in-formed."

"Tell me more, then," I said before I took a big gulp of my drink.

"He's getting taken out, you oughtta know that. His little group ain't doing so well and they're pissing off a lot of the wrong people. Since I'm telling you all this, you oughtta leave. We could use someone like you. Fuck that infiltrator." He leaned in closer and I flattened myself against the wall.

"You can go fuck yourself, how about that." The surprised look on his face hardly matched the surprise I felt inside. Did I just... stick up for Jann? No. Not at all. No, I told myself, I felt this way because this guy's a dick. That's why. No other reason why. I'm telling you, it's the second thoughts that need a pound of salt with them to make them worth something.

"You like being on the losing team? The guys found out, little missy, he's a clan and he'll always be a clan. I'm fucking amazed he's lasted this long. And it's so damn obvious he's a phony—"

"I don't know what you mean," I said slowly, watching his reaction.

He was still fired up. "The guy's a fake. Someone's gonna take him out."

"Who's taking him out?" Was this important?

"The hell should I know? But Jann's a lying two-faced son of a bitch. And if you friendly with Gabriel, you're done for. He's getting what he wants out of you, then, settin' you up like that," he clucked his tongue and tapped the side of my head.

I glared up at him, annoyed. "He's smarter than _you_ , that's for fucking sure. What do you mean that he's a fake?"

"He's clan, and he was Cammie, he'll always be Cammie. You can't take it out of them. You can't get rid of it. Once a Cammie, always a Cammie. Don't let him fool you, he's a fucking sneak and manipulator. And Tremere. The fucking king scumbags of them all. So what'd you say? Come back with us tonight?"

Did they seriously expect me to drop my life for them? "I don't know you guys, and there's no way in hell I'm joining up with you."

"You making a mistake, little missy," he leaned closer to me. I tried my damndest to get as flat as possible, and as far away from him as possible. "I give you life. I don't string you along like Jann and those guys. Fuck them. They don't see you as nothing than a tool. You a fucking tool?"

Of course I wasn't, but yet, his contempt for me and Jann were getting on my nerves. "Jann has no intention of getting me killed." But as soon as those words left my mouth, I probably didn't do a good enough job of concealing the sudden doubt I had of my words. Why the hell would I say that, anyway?

It didn't matter though, as all four of them simultaneously broke out into laughter again. "Okay, okay, wait, you," he jabbed his finger into my chest, "are telling me," he jabbed himself, "that he's got no intention of getting you killed?"

I scowled and kept my mouth shut.

"That's what the guy's known for, you poor dumb kid! Let me guess, he got Gabriel to seduce you, and now he's got you doing something impossible that's going to get you killed. Oh, I hit a soft spot now, did I? We all got his MO, and that's why he ain't gonna last. You think you're the first one? You ain't the second one, either. I hope you don't think you're something special to him, because if you think you are, then don't be surprised when you find out there's ten other girls begging for his attention. Yeah," he put his hand on his hip. "He's getting his happy ending pretty damn soon. But you didn't hear that from me."

"I don't even know who you are," I said flatly, not wanting to digest a single word he said.

"No big thing," he shrugged. "Everyone knows who we are. Ask your lyin' lover Gabe. He knows who we are."

"I think you're full of shit."

" 'Furthermore?' We in the eighteenth century or something?" He sniggered, raising an eyebrow at me. "Or maybe you gotta thing for that Slav scumbag?"

"I ain't got no 'thing' for anybody, asshole," I growled, wishing I could crush the highball glass in my hands to show him how infuriating he was. God only knew that wasn't the truth, but it wouldn't help my case at all here unless I played my cards right. "I'd like to know what the hell _you_ guys are doing to further your cause?"

" 'You' guys?" He paused, narrowing his eyes at me. "The hell you mean 'you guys'?"

My mind worked in overtime. What did _he_ mean by that? "You Anarchists."

There was no denying the confusion in his face that only lasted for a span of a second and a half, but it was undeniable that his mind was elsewhere. "Jann's a phony, and you're dead if you stay with him."

"I've made my will, got my plot and paid for it, too. Leave me alone."

He tsked, retracting his hand from the brick wall behind my head. "You sure about that?"

"I am."

He glanced back to the other three guys, and they nodded.

And I knew a split second too late that that was a bad sign. My highball glass hadn't even shattered on the concrete when I felt his icy hands on my neck, my hair getting wrenched by the scalp, his ugly hands jerking my head to the side.

I tried to scream (not that I was much of a screamer to begin with) and tried to hit him. But I couldn't. He'd pushed himself against me, and with his leather jacket and early winter attire, I couldn't get a damaging grip. I writhed against him and felt the scream die somewhere in my throat. Because that's when I felt the burning on my throat. Ice, then fire. The only sound, my heartbeat.

And I felt _him_. I _was_ him. Like our bodies had been switched. _I_ was in ecstasy. _I_ was ethereal, I was floating midair, the brick courtyard surrounding me, but not surrounding me. I was above it all, this malicious and betraying world. This world that is full of lies, faces that smile with evil inside, words that stab like a sword. Envy, greed, murder.

All of that world disappeared. The real world was glowing. This was what life should be.

Pure.

Soft.

True.

There is no pain.

And like a whirlwind, I collapsed violently back to the hard earth. More like scraping the back of my skull on a brick wall as my legs gave out underneath me. I had no power over my body. None at all. Could I move? The concrete ground would give me a harsh greeting. My elbow jutted out in time to save me from a skull-crunching landing.

A voice echoed across the chasm of the courtyard. "Terr, you next."

My elbow hit the concrete, like knives slicing through my bones into my shoulder. The numbness disappeared, and it was an excruciating clap of agony that split through my neck into my head. I gasped, trying to get oxygen back to my brain. Was I breathing? Was I alive? He drank my blood! He'd punctured my neck!

I tried to move – or at least I thought I was moving. Something raised my torso up to a sitting position. I tried to hold on to my thoughts, the searing messages of my nerves screaming of the torn skin on the back of my head being shredded again. Right, down, then back up, the brick was scraping the broken skin on my – ice, then fire.

Again, the heartbeat, now faster than before.

How much blood had I – the light. The world was brighter. The shadows regressed into themselves, amorphic shapes of various colors floating in a semi-congruous pattern around me. They were friendly, that was to be certain. To help me. To make me see. My eyes would open, and I would smile, I would be fine, I would be happy, and all would be well. The angels have come to guide me. I would be free. Free to fly. Fly to an even brighter place, a -

Like a vacuum, the brightness spiraled and syphoned into a swirling tornado, and the excruciating agony that was my entire body slammed into me like a wall of bricks. Or... was that me slamming into bricks? A knife went through my head, all I could sense was my heart thumping slowly in my chest, pulsating painfully inside a cage too small. My equilibrium was screwy. My eyes were open, but I couldn't see. The world was black and grey. But there was a lightness to the right of me. Or was that darkness.

Just breathe.

I couldn't breathe.

I had to breathe.

In, fill the lungs. Force out the air.

Pain from every inch of my body, but especially my head.

Gravity righted my senses for a moment, but only for a moment.

That was the concrete beside my right eye. The light was shining its wet reflection on it into my cornea.

My heartbeat. It pounded in my ears, but then another noise, muffled and distant, came into consciousness. It vacillated into my eardrums like a wave, then petered out for a moment, then returned, louder than before.

It was yelling.

The shadows and light glimmering in my paralyzed eyes sent signals to my brain that something was going on in front of me.

Someone fell nearby, the vibration on the ground awakening the nerves on my skin.

My skin.

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

But especially my head.

Breathe in. Force the air out. Inhale deeply, fill lung capacity. Then out again.

One.

Two.

My eyelids fluttered. I hadn't controlled that.

The dancing dark shapes in front of me, those were bodies.

They were grappling. Fighting.

I'd hardly finished the thought of wonder when it all came back to me at once.

Those bastards. They'd tried to get their midnight snack on me. On _me!_

I blinked again, willing my pupils to dilate and focus. I didn't dare move, the pain was too great. But now I could discern the movements in front of me.

It was Gabriel.

And them.

One of them was on the ground above my head. Gabriel was wrestling with another. No one else was stalking him. Had they run? It took all my strength to focus on his swings to the short guy, the perpetrator who'd taken the first bite, but my eyes kept falling out of focus. I couldn't see anything.

I felt the thud on the ground in front of me. I was blind.

My heart fluttered, a spasm shot through me, and it felt like my heart was caving into itself. But still trying to pulsate, to push my blood through. Or whatever was left of it.

"Charlie! _Charlie!_ "

Warmth on my arm. Shaking me. I didn't feel the concrete under my scalp anymore. I didn't even realize I'd closed my eyes until I found myself searching for his voice in the darkness.

Open eyelids.

It was Gabriel.

"Charlie! Stay with me! God—"

Darkness surrounded me into its comforting embrace.


	7. Friday Night, Three Hours Before Dawn

Cold. So fucking cold. My feet, my thighs, my stomach, my arms, my face, everything. So cold. My arms were curled up against my chest, my heart was racing. My throat tensed, I could feel my tendons straining against my skin.

And then there was something soft on my skin. It was warm. Like velvet. Enveloping me up to my chin.

I was in bed. The comforter, soft and encompassing.

But I was still so fucking cold.

I was staring into my eyelids. There was a light on in the room, in the room with my bed. What bed?

My eyes snapped open as I simultaneously took a quick and deep inhale.

 _That_ bedroom. Jann's manse. Club. Fighting. My neck. They tried to suck me dry. My chest rattled, a small movement, a weight on my chest. There was someone beside me. I had to peel my gaze away from the ceiling.

It was blue eyes that looked down at me.

Gabriel.

"You okay, kid?"

His voice was flanged, like my ears were constricted inside a metal tube. Like he was a million miles away. But his face was only a foot away from mine.

"Charlie, you alright?"

Normalcy. I was back in the safety and quiet of my bedroom. Gabriel had come to my rescue. "They were gonna kill me," I blurted out, my memories assaulting my mind in one giant wave. And my heart raced, my fists balled into knots, and I trembled under the blankets.

"Easy, kid," he rubbed my fist in an attempt to calm me down, I suppose. "Yeah, they'd have snuffed you if I hadn't showed up. Seemed pretty pissed to see me there, you remember anything they said?"

I remembered every damn thing. What I couldn't relive, though, were those minutes of uncontaminated bliss. Were they minutes? Hours? I knew damn well what was taking place in that stagger of memory, but it was just so... well, truth was, I never felt anything like it. This is what the ghouls knew? It almost felt like what drugs would feel like. I wouldn't know, but I could imagine. Addicting... if you had an addictive personality.

"Charlie?"

Fading out, was I? "Oh, yeah, I think I remember... something about you being a player, Jann's a phony, and that I'm going to eventually die if I stay with your group. What do you think about that?"

"It's a load of shit is what it is," Gabriel scowling, absent-mindedly withdrawing his hands. "They have a lot of nerve attacking you like they did. Believe me, we're looking into it."

But somehow, it didn't perturb me. They called themselves by the same name. "You Anarchs aren't very united, are you?"

He didn't make eye contact as he replied. "There's scum everywhere."

Ain't that the truth.

"They didn't damage you too much. Seemed like they wanted to take turns from you til you ran dry. I'd say you lost about a pint at most. Nothing a good steak or two for yourself would put the pep back in your step."

"I have no pep," I mumbled, rolling my eyes. I felt fine, surprisingly. Tired, yes. Still cold, yes. My throat. I quickly withdrew my hand from under the blanket, feeling where they'd bit me.

"I fixed that for you. It didn't take long to get rid of them, and your cuts were fresh."

I eyed him as I felt around my neck and felt nothing aside from the thinning scabs from Shand. I didn't feel a damn thing. It was surreal, the fleeting thought that perhaps I'd had dreamt the whole thing. Though that was far from the case. My stomach suddenly growled, painful and loud. I glanced at the clock beside my bed. Just after two am. Surely, Gabriel hadn't sat with me this whole time? We'd only gotten to the club not much past ten.

"I think there's some canned food in the kitchen. Sorry, we don't keep anything fresh around here. For human consumption, anyway." He rolled his eyes, sighing and standing up. "You sure you feel fine?"

"Should I not?" I raised my eyebrow at him. "You didn't work some weird vampire trick on me, did you?"

"Hell no, I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole," he scowled, "you're spoiled goods, anyway."

"You fucking licked me, idiot," I scoffed, sitting myself up on the bed. I was still in the same clothes as I'd been in at the club. I was lying in the filthy courtyard, and then someone decided it was a good idea to stick me in my bed in those same grimy clothes? I gave him a dirty look. Thanks for soiling my sheets, dick.

"I don't think Jann would have appreciated it if I hadn't otherwise."

"And what the hell do you mean by 'spoiled goods'?" I was certainly feeling cold, but with some movement and walking around, I was sure to feel better. And maybe a decent sweater.

"You're Jann's, if you didn't know by now. And Shand tainted you."

"I don't know what you mean." I really didn't. Did this have anything to do with Jann calling me 'special?'

He narrowed his eyes at me, the lamp carving hard shadows on his face. "You're not... Well, you're human, not a ghoul, but there's something weird about you. I don't think anyone else notices."

Flashes of the antagonistic remarks by those bullies. He was insulted when I called them 'you guys.' It echoed in my mind, but what was its significance? "I want to know what you mean."

He shook his head, turning and taking a step away.

"No," I flipped the covers back and slid my legs to the floor. Damn him, he'd left my shoes on, too. In my bed, dirt and mud and all. Remind me to find some fresh sheets after I find myself some nourishment. "Please, I need to know."

"I don't know, it can't be explained. Go find some food, I have things to do."

I watched him make his way to the door. "Gabriel!" I called out as he reached the open door that led out to a dark hallway.

He paused for a millisecond, then disappeared into the darkness.

And I was alone.

Damn him. Damn me. Calling out to him like a fucking loser. Arrogant prick.

I got out of bed, went to the closet and extracted the first sweater I spotted. It was grey, more like a duster. It would do. I went quickly to my doorway and peeked out, thankful for the empty hallway. I walked silently to the stairwell at the end of the hall, descending slowly. I was fairly positive that the chattering voices downstairs were coming from some distance away. With each descending step, I was certain that it was coming from that sitting room at the end of the hallway of the west wing where they liked to meet. The room was far enough away that I could undoubtedly slip by unnoticed, to the kitchen to find some canned crap. Images of food drifted through my mind. Forget them. Jann wanted me here for whatever reason, and so no one could say dick all to me.

The foyer was dimly lit, and a floor lamp behind the second set of French doors that led to the stately front door was the only source of friendly light in the vicinity. Low LEDs lit the hallway near the floor, but they were merely useless mood lights. I had just descended into the fading reaches of the floor lamp when I heard a woman's voice just crossing the threshold into the foyer.

I could hear her before I could see her.

"...Should be fine. ... This will work, trust me."

I froze on the stairwell, flabbergasted. It was too late to make a sudden retreat back upstairs, I'd make too much noise. The movement would alert her. Not just a her, it was Donna. The recognition came half a second after I comprehended her words. And so there I was, flattened against the wall, not even four steps from the landing, staring wide-eyed at the incoming figure not nearly ten feet away from me. She closed in fast, her hand pressing her cell phone to her ear.

If she saw me, heaven only knew how she'd react. There was no doubt in my mind that she had something against me. Whether it were a powerplay or something even more petty, she wouldn't fancy my eavesdropping on her conversation.

So when she strode past my paralyzed form not hardly four feet in front of me without casting a single glance my way, I blanched, my skin crawling with icy trickles that prickled into my flesh. How the hell had she not seen me? I was screaming to myself, only my eyes following her movements. She made a U-turn and went back toward the hallway. But I could already tell that she wasn't going back to the meeting room just yet. No, she was making circles in the foyer, out of earshot from everyone.

But not from me.

"He won't know. I met with Craw, that's Boor's secretary, she knows all about it. ...Right."

As I predicted, she turned around and approached me again. I remained motionless, trying to merge into the wall, willing her not to look my way.

And again, she passed by me. And she didn't look too thrilled with whoever she was on the phone with. "You _will_ , damn it, this has to happen, or else she'll never take our word. ...Yeah, I know that. But this is the most important thing. He can't fuck this up, or else we're fucked."

Could she really not see me? But I didn't dare move. There was no way my grey duster, let alone my brunette qualities would camouflage into a beige wall. Had to be a 60 watt bulb in that floor lamp. It was no more than twenty feet away from me, but it wasn't _that_ dim over here by the stairs. As she came back around toward me, the wall of the stairwell obscuring her point of view, I turned my head slightly to the side. I could see the shadows of the second floor didn't begin until at least ten steps above me.

So how could she not see me? I was practically standing there, awkwardly, I would like to declare, with each foot planted flatly on a different step, my shoulder hunched mid-descent. I'd managed to lean my head against the wall to stabilize this insane pose.

How long could I remain unnoticed?

"He won't. I went over it a million times with him already. ...Yeah, three times. He's not that stupid. My biggest worry is him growing cold feet. He can't pull out. You need to make sure of this. ...Yeah, I know, don't we all."

Another pass. She would be turning around again.

But she turned the opposite way, going toward that divan I'd awoken on a couple of times. All thanks to Gabriel. Disgruntled protector. Donna paused in her stride, looking stiff. Her back was to me. "She'll do it, I don't thinks he has a choice, anyway. Just fucking do it. He needs your help, and I really don't care how you do it. ...Don't give me that shit. You think he'll be the first one? You better get used to it."

She began walking again, more slowly this time, then turned, leaning her elbows on the back of an armchair, absently looking around the room. And being that the armchair faced me, her face was looking in my direction. Like slow-motion, I watched her eyes meander across the room. And her line of sight passed right over me.

But... she had to have seen me. There was no way. It wasn't _that_ dark over here. Hell, I wasn't even in shadow. So why hadn't she reacted to me?

And then my back began to cramp.

Not the achy kind, but the pulling kind. I was pulling my back out trying to hold this pose. It sucked getting old. It was irregular; expected, but not so soon. "He won't. Talk to him now. Tonight. Tomorrow will be too late. ...I don't give a damn!"

I contained the surge of fear that threatened to make me twitch, let alone bolt back upstairs to the false safety of my designated confines. Still, she had not looked at me!

"I will take it to Boor. Una will approve. But this isn't about her, damn it. ...Yeah, I'm looking into it. I'm finding some interesting things. ...No, I'll talk to you in person about it. Oh, it's a big deal, you have no idea. But you need to focus on Martin right now, or else this'll all fall apart. And it'll be your fault. I wouldn't want that, would you?"

I could have sworn I heard a response in submissive word and tone: "No."

Could've been my head, though.

Whoever was on the line was a silent one indeed, despite Donna's responses to the voice. I hadn't heard a single other voice at all. Was it man, woman, human, vampire, something else?

"That piece of shit, no, I don't want to talk about it. He hasn't brought it up. ...No, I'm fine. Whatever. ...Yeah. Do that." And she hung up.

As if I wasn't cramped enough, I felt horribly self-conscious of every muscle and fiber in my body, of the way my clothes hung on me, how my shoes didn't quite fit right, and my ponytail pushing against the back of my head against the wall. I stared at the armchair, not risking having my eyes move to follow her. But she merely fiddled with her phone for a few seconds and then huffed and stalked back toward the sitting room down the hallway.

And not once did she look my way. She disappeared from view, and I exhaled, relief flooding through me, making me collapse onto the stair. I was starting to shed a thin layer of sweat. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths.

I made sure her footsteps died into the quiet hum coming from that room before I opened my eyes. I stood up and quickly slipped around the corner, taking a hasty glance down the hallway where she'd disappeared to. I couldn't see any movement down there, but I had no doubt they were all in there. Nevermind them, I needed to eat something.

I dimmed the kitchen lights, hoping it wouldn't catch anyone's attention should one of them pass by. I doubted they came in here, it wasn't like they ate anything of substance in this house. But I couldn't be too sure. As Gabriel had thought, there were some miserable cans of instant food in a cabinet, but I opted for the ramen noodles hiding in the back. They were probably out of date, but at this point, boiling water and salt should take away the rotten impurities.

A bowl of noodles had never tasted so good. The salt would do wonders for my blood pressure, but that couldn't be helped. The heat warmed my bones and I savored every single squiggly noodle.

I was nearly done when I heard footsteps coming from the foyer.

I scrambled out of the stool, grabbing the bowl and moved to the counter that was unseen from the kitchen doorway. I hoped I didn't make a sound. Like a moron, I held the bowl up and cringed, dreading an unwelcome visit. I stared up at the ceiling, muttering silent prayers in my head for that person to be exiting the building rather than be coming to the kitchen over an empty stomach. Sure enough, I heard keys jangling. Someone was leaving, most likely. One of the girls – er, ghouls – perhaps? The footsteps came and went past the kitchen, and I held my breath in anticipation of a satisfactory sigh of relief.

The door to the garage closed behind them, and I exhaled a "thank God" and opened my eyes, setting down my cooling bowl of broth.

"That's rather interesting, I have to say."

I squeaked and twitched violently, glad that the bowl was already on the counter and far enough away from my jolting hands. I swirled around toward the door. It was Jann. I closed my eyes for a moment, willing my heart to stop pounding out of my chest. "It's you," I said, hoping I wasn't visibly shaking.

He was leaning on the wall by the doorway, but now he unfolded his arms and approached me, looking at me curiously. "Would it be a trigger or a progression of time, I wonder?"

I eyed him, pushing my bowl of broth toward the sink and covertly taking a step away from him. "What are you talking about?"

"Those Anarchs were Caitiff, there is no affiliation whatsoever," he said. I wasn't sure if he was talking to himself. Most likely intentionally speaking low so I'd strain my ears to listen. "But she's showing all the symptoms, save the most important ones. Charlie," he exclaimed, stopping to lean on the island directly across me. He took no notice of my tension. "Are you aware of your abilities?"

"What abilities?" I furrowed my brows, at a loss to his peculiar statements.

He tilted his head, eyes glinting from the dim recessed lights above him. "So you aren't consciously doing this?"

"What are you talking about?" The noodles weren't settling very well in my stomach now, thanks to Jann.

He looked away for a moment, nodded, then turned back at me. "Follow me."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out of the kitchen. I followed, my mind a whirl trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. What was I doing? Or did I do? Abilities? Did this have something to do with those Dominance and Celerity thing that Gabriel talked about? I followed him to his office door, which he was in the process of unlocking, then ushered me in ahead of him.

The room was pitch black.

I looked at him questioningly, but decided against asking him about turning on the light. Again, as an afterthought, I realized he could read my mind anyway. There was no reason to disguise my internal complaining into words, he'd heard it all correctly the first time. Annoying. So I walked in, then tripped forwards when I felt him coming into the room behind me and shutting the door.

The lights were still off, though now that my eyes had adjusted, there was a miniscule amount of moonlight coming in through the curtained windows at the far end of his office.

Was he – what was he planning? Why hadn't he turned the light on? I turned around and took a step back, seeing nothing but blackness in front of me.

"Hm, fascinating," he broke the heavy silence in the room, and the soft yellow lights were suddenly bright.

I found myself nearly tripping over an end table, trying to hide my wide-eyed fear of being alone with him in a dark room. I felt ashamed, then immediately livid. "What the hell was that for?"

He walked past me, ignoring my discomfort. "You ate, I presume you're having a cigarette?"

Oh right. Why, thank you for being so considerate of my subconsciously suicidal habit.

He reached the desk and pulled out the filigreed glass ashtray, placing it beside the armchair I'd sat in before, then turned around and looked at me. I was still standing in the front sitting area, recovering from that moment of cold dread. Yeah, I'm coming, I grumbled in my mind. You can hear me, I know this.

He was already seated and settled by the time I got to my armchair. I withdrew a cigarette from the pack I'd stowed in my back pocket, clicked it alight with Gabriel's lighter, and sat down, crossing my legs and moving the ashtray a little closer to me. "Care to tell me what you're talking about?" I asked. I wasn't going to let him lead the conversation astray.

"You clothed yourself into the shadows," he replied. "You obfuscated, was this intentional?"

"I don't know what you mean." But wait, obfuscated meant obscured, which meant hiding. Was this... "You mean I hid myself from view?"

He nodded, his patient expression irritating me.

So why didn't he say anything? I stared at him for a moment. Oh. "No, it wasn't intentional."

He nodded again. "Honesty, it's commendable. So is fastidiousness, you pay attention to details. You've obfuscated before?"

"I wasn't hiding from you in the kitchen," I frowned, taking an anxious pull from my cigarette.

"But you were hiding from the ghoul walking down the hallway."

"But you... when did you come in the kitchen, anyway?"

"A moment after the ghoul passed. You let your ability linger."

Linger? 'The ghoul?' He hated humans, that's what they said. Did he not even refer to them by their names? That didn't sound right, he'd said them before. Hadn't he? But now I was digressing. Was it a conscious effort? It had to be. Just like... "That seems right. I get it now." If I didn't want to be seen, then perhaps I couldn't be seen. "You mean I can hide in plain sight?"

"In dimness. In darkness, it isn't an effort on your part at all, I see now. This is why I delayed turning on the light just before. Furthermore, you should know that this ability isn't effective in daylight."

So that explained why Donna didn't see me. Why the clubber had nearly tripped over me back at Stockholm.

"This is something new for you?"

"How the hell did this happen?" Were their abilities contagious? Who had Obfuscate around here?

"As I said, Martin shows Malkavian tendencies, but not this aspect. This would eliminate any tampering on his part. It had to have been from Shand, who also showed Malkavian tendencies. I sensed this in you before, though it didn't manifest itself until now. Two days. Hm," he seemed to regress into his own thoughts out loud. "That's all it took, very fascinating. But only..." He looked back up at me. "When Shand gave you your throat injury, explain to me what happened."

"Would it be enough to play the memory?"

He seemed irritated at this. "I cannot see into your mind. Tell me the memory."

Which I supposed meant he could only hear my thoughts. It took a moment to take myself back to that disturbing evening. The night all this stupid shit began. "He... bit me, rough, not like how he bit Brooke. Obviously," I touched the jagged scabs along my throat. Truth was, he was tearing at me like a wild animal. It was no smooth operation on his part. Rather, clawing and grasping. Violent.

Funny how he didn't say anything until my thoughts paused. "I see," he trailed off, his eyes focused on something distant from me.

I pulled on my cigarette again, ashing into the decorated plate. Entirely too fine to be used as an actual ashtray. But it was mine nonetheless. "So you think Shand's bite infected me with his Malkavian abilities?"

"Perhaps." He turned back to me, his eyes bright with academic enthusiasm. I dared say he was attractive at this very moment, but I hastily stuffed that down the crapshoot of thoughts not worth pondering. He went on: "He gave you no blood, yet he had just finished feeding and killing Brooke, so it's possible that his body was to capacity with fresh blood. Some of his blood may have mingled with yours when he broke your skin. He missed your artery, yet, despite the human body's natural tendency to excrete any foreign matter, his blood managed to circulate into your system. I can't know the exact amount. He must have had an abrasion. You say he wasn't yet injured at this point?"

I shook my head, marveling at his scientific analyzation.

"There had to be, somewhere. An incision alone wouldn't grant you anything at all, or else the ghouls... No, nothing. Something had to..." He trailed off for a moment, then looked back at me. But said nothing.

It was terribly awkward. I watched him for a number of seconds, consciously keeping my mind focused on why he would be staring at me in such a calm fashion, and I took another drag of my cigarette.

"That would be the case," he nodded once. "This is curious, indeed. Charlie, do keep me informed of this. I'm not aware of Shand having any abilities at all, so this comes as an interesting case to me."

"Okay," I said, clearing my throat. What else could I do? I had no idea how to harness this, let alone its capabilities. So what if I could hide more effectively in the dark? What a skill. Maybe I could hide in bed all night long.

"No, you know this is more than just hiding in the dark; you can hide in lamplight, so long as you stay motionless. I don't know the true extent of your abilities, or if it will continue to develop. It is curious, however. You are no kindred, and you are no ghoul, yet you have retained an ability known only to kindred. A unique case worth pursuing for the time being."

Now I was some science experiment? I inhaled deeply for the sole purpose of exhaling an extraneous amount of smoke. "So I'm unique?"

"Not worth flattery," he dismissed me without even meeting my eyes, still contemplatively searching the surface of his library behind me. "Possibility of losing that ability with the passing of time. However, you feel no draw to Shand, so there is no exchange of wills. A remarkable gift, certainly unintentional, yet obtained nonetheless. Charlie," he met my eyes for a long moment until I became terribly uncomfortable. "Do you sense anything else?"

"I had no idea I could blend into the shadows, you expect me to know if I have some other unknown ability or something?"

He sniffed, shaking his head and looking away again.

" _You_ bit me," I reminded him, but didn't expect him to reply so quickly.

"And how distasteful it was," he looked at me again.

But the glimmer in those amber eyes didn't look right. "You're saying that Shand gave me some of his blood? I don't recall tasting any blood. And the blood when you bit me was mine, wasn't it?"

"The theory is unproven," he looked away before he finished responding.

Distasteful? I was insulted. Not that blood should be tasteful, but for one whose palate consisted of merely hemoglobin and plasma, then was I so bad with my type O? How bad could it be to these so-called kindred? I rolled my eyes, appalled at the direction of my thoughts, and took a drag of my cigarette. The room stunk with second-hand smoke. Yes, I smoked, but I hated the smell of it. Wait, wall. I needed to put up that wall.

"Who taught you of the wall?"

My heart lurched at his interruption of my private thoughts. My eyes fluttered back up to his. "Gabriel, who else."

"What else has he spoken to you about?"

"His own abilities. He was the one who saved me tonight, you know."

"What else have you to tell me?"

What? Okay, change of subject then. Was this guy a loony? No doubt. "So speaking of this Obfuscate business, I did manage to overhear Donna talking to someone on the phone about making plans of some sort. Doesn't sound, eh, kosher, if you know what I mean."

"I'm aware, thank you."

Was he now? "What's that about?"

"I know of it, it doesn't concern you."

"But... fine, whatever."

"Your obfuscate abilities are rudimentary. When opportunity is at hand, fall into the shadows. As you are closer to Gabriel than the others, I suggest experimenting your limits of this with him. Are you able to decipher between kindred and humans?"

Did he have to switch subjects so quickly? But now I had to contemplate his question. "A difference, how?"

"Visually. Subconsciously. Do they look different to you?"

Everyone looks like a freak to me. Well, wait, was he referring to... but that had to be...

"I need to know what you're referring to."

I glowered at him, heart fluttering with hatred for his telepathic eavesdropping. "That Anarch tonight, the one who attacked me, he... he felt ... _red_ to me. I thought I saw it, but I didn't. But that could've been because..." Was I just about to admit that I'd been scared? I'm so disgusted with myself.

He nodded, a small something flickering across his mouth. "Turned on its head. Curious. Anything else?"

"I'd like to know what the fuck _you're_ thinking," I growled, taking a last pull from my cigarette and stubbing it out quickly on the ashtray.

"Are you inclined to read?"

What? "I like reading, yes." Best not to overanalyze his haphazard discourse of questions.

"You may access this library at your leisure."

I narrowed my eyes. There had to be a catch. "What for?"

"You are curious of the contents of my shelves, no?"

"Yeah, but..." Oh, whatever. He wanted to give me access, then so be it. Wall. Put up that wall. I consciously visualized it going up, all the while observing him. He seemed not to notice. Or chose to ignore me. Bastard.

"There are some histories here, some explanation of theorem and observations. It is apparent you will be spending some time here, so it is only fitting that you learn of us."

"You can't fill me in to the relevant details?"

"And jeopardize your mortality? I think not. I was under the impression you enjoyed academia."

Fucker.

He slid his hand across the desk toward me and when he withdrew his hand, a key lay on the table. "I trust your discretion."

I looked up at him. "You trust me so soon?"

"Should I? There is nowhere for you to go. Now you are sufficiently entertained in the daylight."

I took the key, slipping it into my pack of cigarettes. "I'll be too busy trying to come up with stories for this Anita Hyde, thank you very much. What are you doing to her anyway?"

"Shand was one of her puppets. She is Camarilla in name only, and, like your repulsive slave traders, she has manipulated several Anarchs into rounding together the weaker of the Anarchs into doing their bidding. Eliminating Hyde sends the Camarilla a message."

"Who is Boor?"

He raised an eyebrow. "This you overheard from Donna?"

"How did you – yes, she said something about Boor and Craw knowing."

"Boor is our local Anarch leader. He is merely the figurehead of this area."

"Meaning, he hands out all the assignments?"

"In a sense, you could say. Anarchs accept no leader. But we do believe in the highest bidder."

I frowned. Sounded contradictory, but then again, anarchy was self-defeating and nonsensical. How could you eliminate the government form? Who defined order? Especially in a large population? "And where are you on this Anarch social ladder of justice?"

"I've made my status."

"Because you're Tremere?"

"It is where my loyalties lie that represent my influence. I follow my own order."

"Sounds like you have more enemies than friends."

He smirked. That was a first. "My enemies are my friends."

"Ah," I raised a finger, winking before reaching down for a cigarette. "And the plot thickens. Name a few, I won't tell."

"No one you know of that would concern you for the time being. Hyde is no concern of mine. It is your first mission, but you mustn't overthink it. She is vain, arrogant, sensual, and careless with her ghouls. Her Toreador traits accentuate these attractive qualities. Remember those, and you will be successful. I have full faith in my compatriots."

"Easy for you to say," I grumbled.

"I suggest you get your rest. Might I also suggest one of our ghouls retrieve a decent meal for you tomorrow. You look rather pale."

As far as I knew, that wasn't a joke. I took a drag and stood up. "I know when I'm not wanted. I suppose no one could get me a steak at this hour."

"Only if you enjoy diner food."

"It's protein, right?"

"Go."

"Right," I mumbled, leaving the room and closing the door behind me.

Obfuscate, was it? I know Donna was just your average human, but had I really hidden from Jann, or was he only stroking my ego? But how should I feel about having some weird ability? There was no doubt there was something odd about tonight's events. Was this whole vampire thing really some sort of mutated infection phenomena? I felt like a science experiment of his, and I doubted I could feign any symptoms in front of him. Damn him and his annoying mind-reading skill. That was no deception, either.

Walking down the hall toward the foyer to go back up to my room, I suddenly felt horribly small and insignificant. Weak. What kind of planet was this when ...things like them walked around? Had I passed them before in my life before this? Had one read my mind? Had one ever stalked me before? Growing up next to NYC, there was no way I hadn't not ran into one before. Had I even ever been friends with one? Maybe a ghoul, which probably seemed more likely? How common were these creatures? And what else did I not know about? What other creatures of the night prowled while us lowly and untalented humans slept? What other powers were out there? Couldn't someone just tell me? Was there some guidebook, a compendium, a wiki somewhere that would teach me all their tricks? Well where was the human equivalent? So there was my answer. I paused at the bottom of the stairwell and glanced down the hallway toward the room at the far end. There seemed to still be some activity down there, but I wasn't interested. Instead, another thought entered my mind and I turned around and went to the armchair where Donna had stood. I stood in the exact spot she had and looked at the stairwell.

The wall of the stairwell stood out starkly. Small picture frames lined the wall where I'd stood. Perhaps my hair and facial features had blended into one of them? But that still didn't explain the fact that my grey duster would have stood out like a sore thumb against the rest of the beige wall.

There was no denying this. I'd managed to blend into the background from sheer will.

He wanted me to share this with Gabriel, more or less. He didn't mention the ghoul ladies. Would they be jealous, perhaps? Donna was resentful already, Lin was friendly – a little too friendly, which raised a whole bunch of red flags in my book, and Sara, I couldn't put my finger on. I supposed Gabriel was the only one worth discussing this subject with. But yet, where was he? It was nearly 4am according to the old grandfather clock, and I had no way to get in contact with him. I thought of going down that hallway to mingle with the rest, but thought better of it.

I ascended the steps. If I chanced going down there, I might be met with hostile stares and maybe more. I wasn't going to create another schism like I had the night before. A hot bath and introspection until fatigue overtook me would be a more ideal way to spend the night.


	8. Saturday, Late Afternoon into Evening

Another ramen nearly twelve hours later hardly helped to satiate my appetite. I really needed something substantial. My brain felt more fuzzy than usual. And my cigarettes were running low. It was about an hour or so before sundown. I had all intentions of adjusting my schedule to fit their nocturnal lifestyle, but damn it, I had to see daylight. God only knew which sunray would be my last.

Jann's key knocked around at the bottom of my cigarette pack. That was the first thing on the agenda. I finished my cigarette and coffee before going in there. I didn't want to be caught in there at night. And as far as I knew, I was the only living soul in this house at this hour on a Saturday afternoon.

In the silence, I entered his office. It felt more airy and clean with the waning sunlight streaming through the curtains. And where to start? I looked at the facing walls lined with books. Some were dusty and faded, others more modern, some covers ripped, but most were generally well-kept. And to my wonder, as I began from the left corner, history books abounded. Sumatran studies, Egypt, Mesopotamia, ancient religion, science of ancient civilizations, obscurities upon mysteries. What was I to make of this? It'd take me years to glean anything supernatural from these studies.

I skimmed the remainder of this side, which contained nothing but histories and science, expositions by authors I'd never heard of. Nothing relevant to vampires, or at least anything pertaining to this Camarilla or Anarch business and such. The other side of the library offered no substance, either. And the sun was quickly escaping.

Aggravated and fighting off the urge to smoke a cigarette (I only had three left), I huffed and looked around the room. And I eyed his desk. Could there possibly be anything interesting there, or did he keep all his secrets in his head?

I made my way to stand behind his desk, noting that my ashtray had been emptied and was clean as if never used. Particular, were we? His desk had seven drawers, three on each side, and one long one in the middle. Going for the gold, I tried the bottom larger drawers. Locked. And there were no keyholes for any of these drawers. If I opened the top drawer just a bit, it might loosen the other drawers. The trick worked. Was I that clever, or did he have nothing to hide? Probably the latter. There were categorized files, bills, legal paperwork that I merely skimmed over. I wasn't really interested in car titles and insurance claims and such. It was all nothing of interest.

How dull. The other drawers above it were just as boring. Stationery, thumbdrives that I could do nothing with, was there even a laptop or piece of technology around here? Pens, whiteout, just the mundane. I made sure to return everything to its original spot. No need for him to know I was snooping through his shit.

I was at the second to last drawer when I spied that little telltale black address book. Not that I would recognize any names in there, but it couldn't hurt to peruse. I withdrew it carefully, almost wishing I had gloves so as to not leave any prints, and annoyed that I was so fearful. I paused, paranoia getting the better of me, and I listened. The garage would be beside this room, but I heard no activity. Exhaling, I opened the book to A-B. I recognized Boor, and there underneath him, two names crossed out, the third one at the bottom reading Alex Craw. I supposed those crossed-out names hadn't made it very far. Would these be important? Were they outdated? Didn't he have a cell phone by now? Or was he reticent when it came to technology? I'd yet to turn on a single television in this house, maybe I was no better.

I reopened the drawer above it and carefully tore out a sheet from the scratchpad, then glanced up at the fountain pen on the desk. Tempting. So I picked it up after taking note of which way it was turned and began copying some numbers. Who knew when I'd ever get my hands on a phone or anything of the kind, but it couldn't hurt to have a few digits handy. I scanned the names quickly when I realized that the daylight was fading quickly. Jann did have a tendency to get up early. I wanted to be out of here before that happened.

To my tiny thrill, I saw Gabriel's number. But it was under 'F' to my wonder. A name, Filipe, was close above it. Last name? Sounded more like a first name. A relation? Other names weren't so close together. For as anal retentive and neat freak that Jann seemed, he wasn't too strictly organized. Regardless, I copied both numbers.

I continued flipping through each page. Jann sure knew a hell of a lot of people. I skimmed the names that were under the blank pages in the back. To my experience, these were the names of import. R, P, Archie, Liz, Mac, and Cren were among the names at the very beginning and very end. These had to be the important numbers – the ones that had been around for a while, and maybe his most recent connections. So I copied them all.

But sunlight was running out. I was wasting time. I quickly returned the fountain pen and address book back to their respective and accurate positions and glanced up at the door to make sure I was still alone in the room. My heart was racing. One could never be too sure with these preternatural creatures and their weird tendencies. Well forget about what was in that bottom drawer. I wasn't going to chance it. It was getting too dark for my comfort. I closed everything up and quietly tiptoed to the door, getting down on my hands and knees to look underneath the door and see if anyone was standing behind it.

I nearly lurched my head into the door when I heard a sudden whirring in the air. Be still, my fluttering heart. I realized it was only a garage door opening. And no one was behind the door as far as I knew. I hastened up to my feet and opened the door, closing it silently and practically running across the hallway into the kitchen. I flipped the lights on, reigning in my adrenaline and lighting a smoke. I'd just settled into a stool and my heart began to settle down when I heard the door open from the garage. Who could it be, I wonder?

I watched the doorway expectantly, absently annoyed that I hadn't acquired anything physically or mentally significant in Jann's office. What a wash. Go figure he didn't care. I wasn't important enough to glean anything substantial other than lifting phone numbers that were now in my back pocket.

It was Lin. She made a beeline straight to me when she saw me, her face smiles, a paper bag in her grip which she held up and set down on the counter in front of me. "I heard you needed some food, how are you feeling? What happened last night? I heard Gabe had to bring you back early and you got attacked? Do share," she exclaimed. "I'm sorry if the food's a little boring, I don't know what you like." She rounded the island to take a stool beside me.

But I was too distracted by the succulent aromas of Chinese food. Fortunately, these recipes stayed the same across state lines. I opened the bag, grateful for the plastic fork that rested atop two containers of salty greasy goodness. "Thanks so much Lin," I said, "I'll tell you about it in a sec." I wished I hadn't had ramen for breakfast. I took out both containers and peeked inside. Fried rice and pork lo mein. I thanked her even more heartily than before and forked some fried rice into my watering mouth.

She looked wholly pleased with herself. "Jann must've told Alec because he left me a message to get you something to eat. I left the club early because Bengal was... being Bengal, and my sister called to tell me she's pregnant. So happy for her! And I know Sara and Donna were here last night, did you see them?"

I shook my head, still savoring my mouthful of rice.

"You had a rough night, I don't blame you. How are you feeling, anyway? All I heard was that you got attacked by some gangbangers, so Gabriel brought you home early."

I swallowed, my stomach gurgling in appreciation. "You left the club last night? I had no idea."

"Well I got the phone call, and, well, see, Donna is Bengal's ghoul slash girlfriend, but he's been a jerk to her lately. Distant and all that, that's why I went last night to try and talk to him. But he goes through his moods every so often, I think it has to do with the moon. But I was getting fed up, thank goodness sissy called. Perfect excuse to leave. I wish I could've kept you safe, I am really sorry."

I shrugged, taking one last mouthful of rice and closing up the box. Maybe Donna was being a dick to Bengal, _that's_ why he gets pissy. Nevermind her shady business that I dared to assume she kept from him. But I kept that to myself. "You don't have to be sorry. I got a drink with Jamie as soon as we went in, but he got distracted and..." My mind lingered for a moment on recalling Gabriel hovering over the barfly, but I dismissed it quickly. "I needed a cigarette so I went out in the courtyard. Well, go figure some assholes thinks I'm someone to pick on. They attacked me, but it appears that Gabriel came to the rescue."

"Why the hell would they attack you? That makes no sense. They were Anarchs?"

"They wanted to know who I was with. As soon as I mentioned Gabriel, they mocked him and told me Jann is going down. And when I let them know I wasn't interested in joining ranks with them, they went for my throat."

"You got bit?" She leaned over to glance at my throat.

"Mm, twice, yeah," was it so interesting? "I think Gabriel took care of it."

"Oh, he better not have taken a little somethin' from you. Jann would kill him."

"You're implying Gabriel, eh, took a sip from me?" As far as I was aware from my conversation with Jann last night, that didn't seem the case.

"He's a sneak," Lin lowered her head, making what I guessed was her very-serious face. "He's the last one to trust your life with."

"I've noticed he's not much liked around here, why is that, anyway? And no, I don't think he took advantage of me. Seems he's the only that saves me around here." Oh geez, I was sticking up for him, now, wasn't I? But who knew what he did to me after I passed out? Certainly not me. And I slept just fine every night knowing everyone's a liar. But I doubted he did anything like that of the kind. Did I?

"He's ex-Camarilla, that's pretty much why. He only came here a few years ago, and half the time, he just shirks all his responsibilities. Unreliable. Childish, throwing hissy fits and being rebellious for the most asinine reasons. Honestly, I wouldn't trust him at all. And there's no doubt he has a thing for you, by the way."

I settled my gaze on her. "And what makes you think that?" This girl was nothing but full of opinions.

"You said it yourself, he's always saving you. Have you realized he's the cause for your needing saving?"

"Going out last night wasn't my choice."

"Sure, but if he wasn't over there philandering with anyone with a rack, this wouldn't have happened."

"But he was the one that found me." How I hated this petty banter. And any reference to his flirtations. I couldn't possibly be jealous, could I? This wasn't jealousy, this was... something I couldn't put my finger on.

"Coincidental, isn't it?"

I frowned.

"He's the fastest one around here, that's all. Other than that, he's good for a whining poor-me pity party. Yuck."

I shrugged, debating on lighting another cigarette. The sun was nearly gone, twilight in full effect outside. Was this club going to be busy tonight? Would Lin possibly do me another favor and get me a pack? I'd hate to owe anything to this gossip queen over a measly pack of cigarettes. I wouldn't dare to ask her of any favors.

"I'm just saying, I don't trust him. There's something fishy about him; he's too flaky."

"I don't think he has a thing for me, I think he got stuck babysitting me for no other reason than twisted fate." I took out a cigarette, fully intentioned on just holding it, but knowing full well I'd soon enough fall for the temptation of lighting it up.

"You mean Brooke? I'm sorry about her. But I don't know, you're his ex's friend, isn't that pretty black-hearted?"

"I'm not even his type."

"You're female, and that's good enough. Toreadors of his ilk don't discriminate. They love the hunt. They love to be the predator. Tell me, does he make you think he cares, then suddenly pull away?"

Flashbacks of the night before where he practically ran away after telling me I 'belonged' to Jann. And then his little display of celerity for me the night before last. I felt violated. Or was Lin just trying to make me feel betrayed? Reflections of knowing I was the possessive type – but did she know that? Gabriel was not mine, nor would he ever be. I wasn't into that sort of affair. Nothing but regrets and disgust from the indulgence. I must have been silent for too long.

Lin smirked. "Thought so. I'm not trying to be a jerk, but I _do_ happen to know him far longer than you have. You wouldn't be his first victim. I'm just trying to protect you. I like you, unlike a lot of the other girls he brings through here. He has a rep for picking some winners. But your friend Brooke, I liked. She was smart. But she was too hot-headed for Jann's preference, we all knew that from the start."

"Jann put her in a corner and made her flip out, didn't he?"

She put her head down, dramatically pondering what to say next. I knew her shtick quite well. Did she think me some backwoods hee-haw? "She had a temper," Lin grimaced, shaking her head. "He pushed her too far, and Gabriel let Jann take care of it like he always ends up doing. I blame Gabriel. But, I hate to say it, she isn't he first he's driven to a suicidal mission. He makes them think they can actually have revenge. But it always ends up with their death. You'd think I'd know by now not to get friendly with his ghouls."

Was she getting caught up with me? Sure seemed like it. "Well hopefully I'm not one of his fatalities, either."

"Oh, no," she smiled at me. "Jann's taken an interest in you, and that's something that I've never known him to do. If you haven't noticed already, Jann refers to us humans as ghouls, never really by our names, only if he has to talk to us directly. But you – you see, even his noticing that you ought to eat something after your blood loss last night, well that's beyond thoughtful of him. He is notorious for being pretty heartless toward humans. So that's reason enough. I dare say you're one in a million," she smiled at me.

Smarmy smile. There was some sort of manipulative and self-serving issues in there. It showed itself enough that I was well aware of it. I had a pretty strong affirmation of why he took interest in me, but I wasn't going to divulge my secrets to this sycophant. "So Gabriel takes ghouls quite often, huh?"

She gave me a knowing grin. "So you _are_ smitten by him. Oh Charlie, please don't fall for his phony charms. Jann would never allow it in his current state of mind, and you would only be signing your inevitable death warrant. Don't let him woo you, it's all fake."

"I believe it." And I did. But it didn't remedy my craving for his attention on me. And only me. "I wouldn't do anything with him. Do you know anything about clan abilities and such?"

"Oh, you're learning pretty quick," she nodded.

I took this as a good opportunity to smugly light my cigarette – with Gabriel's lighter, even if she may or may not be aware of that fact. I smiled contentedly, now that I'd silently fed my ego.

"What do you want to know? I've made it a point to learn all this stuff. I've been a ghoul for the past five years – and I still look twenty-one, don't I?"

I nodded, enjoying my cigarette much more than her conceit. "Well how about Toreadors, for starters? This Hyde character is one, after all. What's her story?"

"Oh, well I can tell you thing or two about her. She's been being watched for a long time. Apparently, she's taken Anarchs under her wing, even though she's Camarilla, and gives them ghouls galore once they let her seduce them. That's how she keeps them all on her leash. She has a network of humans lined up to be ghouls. Problem is, that's sort of against the basic rules of being kindred. You don't let humans, especially so many who aren't blood bound, to know about our existence. But she doesn't care about that etiquette, or, as it's more properly called, the laws of the Masquerade – and she's Camarilla, you'd think she'd know better. That kind of behavior is kind of excusable by an Anarch, but even then, they'd be known as a threat and reprimanded for being so indulgent. But for a Camarilla who ought to know the rules, well, she's pissing off a lot of people. And really, it's the fact that she's taking advantage of the Anarchs to work this little scheme of hers. That's the breaking point for Jann."

"But what's the problem? I mean, seems that humans tend to go to the slaughter willingly—"

"The problem is, she's taking humans that the Anarchs know and keeping them waiting. She's making the Anarchs look bad, but she's Camarilla. It's almost like she's setting us up to look bad. Which she probably is. But the fact is, she's a criminal and manipulator, and she thinks she's getting away scot-free by manipulating us. Like Shand. He was Anarch, but she used him to recruit humans to form up a line for the goodies. People like Green. You saw him. He wanted nothing but to be kindred. So much so that he'd do anything, even murder, like what could've happened to you, to become kindred. Problem was, he couldn't see that Shand was manipulating him. And Hyde and her cronies were manipulating him. The fact is, they never make these people, like Green, kindred. They're just creating chaos."

"But why? Why would she want to create chaos?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, that's what they do. They get bored?"

Pathetic. There had to be reason more than something so self-serving. "So this is why the Anarchs want to get rid of her?"

"She an insult, and to top it off, she's Camarilla. If she thinks she can mess with us, then she's got another thing coming. And this, she will know soon enough. Tomorrow, to be exact." She nodded, smiling.

I hmphed, taking a drag from my cigarette. Was it worth death? To a devoted fanatic, I supposed so. "So what makes her a Toreador? What's their special aspects?"

"Oh, well first of all, she's good-looking. All Toreadors tend to be so. They'll only turn whoever they think is supermodel quality – usually open to interpretation, but generally speaking, they're quite handsome. And they know how to use their looks to manipulate others. Consider yourself and your feelings, for example."

I didn't take well to her example because I knew damn well she was referring to Gabriel, but I let it slide for the time being. She continued, hardly acknowledging the insult.

"They can move nearly as fast as light, to varying degrees, some better than others; and lastly, some can have the ability of mind control. Sort of like what Jann can do. They can read people, read their thoughts, read their feelings and emotions, and for the really talented, telepathy and thought control. But that's very few and far between. In our echelons, we don't run into super-vampires like that."

"Control thoughts? Yeah, that would suck a lot. So you think Gabriel's only privy to celerity?"

"Oh, he's got some presence, too, I'm sure of that. Believe me, all of us have had our minor attraction to him. But knowledge is power, Charlie, and I know better than to fall for his faux allure. And when he turns off that presence thing at me, I see him for what he is: a good-looking bastard."

I snickered along with her, but my heart sank in my chest. I could accept the fraudulent charm, but what of his feelings? "So you think he's devoid of emotions?"

She widened her eyes and dramatically sighed. "Charlie, please, please, please don't tell me you've fallen for him!"

No, I don't mean to be transparent. "I just want to know how this all works."

"Of course he's devoid of emotions! How could he possibly sit there and watch his ghouls get slaughtered, or their killers get their way with his ex-so-called-love interests – all his ghouls have died, do you understand? We've been ghouls for years, Donna's been a ghoul for nearly a decade. Gabe treats ghouls no differently than a roll of paper towels. And he goes through multiple ghouls in a matter of weeks, if not less! I'm really surprised he hasn't had one this past week, to be honest with you."

That's because Brooke just died not hardly five days ago.

"He usually has them all lined up for him. One goes out, another one strolls right in."

Well that stuffed my statement.

She leaned forward and stoked the coals: "Maybe he really does has a thing for you. I think it's because of Jann. They're always in some power play of sorts."

"How you figure?"

"You've noticed they're always pretty edgy around each other by now, hm?"

I nodded, sucking on my cigarette. What was I to do when I ran out of smokes? And it was dark now, where was everyone? Or someone, anyone?

"Gabe's always getting himself in trouble, and Jann's always cleaning up after him. It's usually about Gabe's ghoul affairs, and Jann doesn't have time for that, really. Gabe isn't exactly respectful, either. Doesn't do half the stuff he's supposed to do, rarely pulls his own weight. But he is always there when he's absolutely needed.

"And personally, I think Jann has something against Gabe's past. Gabe keeps his distance from everyone, he thinks he's better than us because he's always looking down his nose at us, but I think there's something shady about the guy. We don't really know him, and he's been with us for five years now. We don't know anything about his past, it was only on Bengal's observation that he figured out he was an ex-Cammie, and he couldn't deny that. But everything else, frankly, is speculation. The story's always changing, but overall, it's generally understood that he left the Camarilla with baggage. So, truth of the matter is, we don't want to get too close to him anyway. I think he's a mole."

That was a lot of frankly's and honestly's and personally's and whatnot, but I concealed my annotations. Vocalizing that what you said were truthful generally meant you're trying to convince yourself that it's true, because deep down, you know it's not. But I said nothing about that, of course. "But he _is_ an Anarch?"

"As far as he claims; and Jann accepts him here, after all. Don't know why, since they're always butting heads. It's probably only a matter of time before somebody gets into a fight."

"Five years, and there hasn't been one?"

She smiled, eyes glittering with a knowing sparkle. "You'll see that the kindred like to drag things out a bit. They are immortal, after all. What's the rush?"

It all sounded so snide.

"So looks like I'll be the one driving you over to the Bilingsby. It's a semi-formal event, so I'm sure you'll find a fitting little black dress in your room." She smiled, obviously changing the subject.

"I guess. Can't say I'm not nervous."

She couldn't wait to hear herself talk. "She goes both ways, obviously, it's how she does her 'recruiting.' So don't skimp on dressing to impress. I wouldn't be surprised if she offers to make you her ghoul that night. Just be as charming as you can, Toreadors are pretty dimwitted in that sense. Play hard to get, and they'll make it their mission to seduce you. Take it from someone who's been there, done that." She winked, nudging me. "They're the most simple of the clans, if you ask me. If you know how to deal with superficial, then you know how to work them. But believe me, they know how to run. They aren't always that stupid. Hyde, she's not a dullard clan reject like our Gabe."

That made me feel a whole lot better. Not.

And from the dark hallway, Gabriel strode into the room. "Yeah, we're stupid, that's proven now, isn't it?"

Lin and I nearly fell out of our seats.

"Damn you!" She was the first to shout, recovering more quickly than I.

Jamie was in tow. I had hardly gotten back into my seat when he threw an object at me.

Cigarettes.

Was he the one feeding my habit? Was he really the one that was tending to my needs?

I glanced quickly at Lin, but she was already spewing vitriol.

"You're a manipulator and a user, everyone knows that," she exclaimed, throwing him a dirty look. "I'm not talking badly about you Gabe, I'm just stating the facts, and giving her some relevant information about your clan. I'm sure you know all about it."

"You grossly underestimate us," he scowled, stopping to lean on the refrigerator. Jamie stood beside him, ostensibly siding with the butt end of the insult. Hardly two days in, and he no longer seemed anything like my ex. Which was a good thing. My disaffection for any and all persons was working. Well, for this guy, anyway. And Gabriel wasn't done: "We can run circles around you ten times over before you can blink an eye. This is especially important when someone needs a knife in their throat. No one will ever see it coming."

"That's not very attractive," Lin raised an eyebrow, raising her nose.

"I stopped that a long time ago, I'm sure you remember it very well."

A sinking feeling in my gut. What had transpired between those two? Something I didn't want to know? She had mentioned, after all, that everyone fell for a Toreador at one time or another. I must've been gaping longer than I'd have liked to. To my dismay, when I realized I was staring, I'd realized that Gabriel was sarcastically reciprocating my dazed expression. But Lin, she was rather preoccupied with proving her disgust.

"If that's what you call attraction, then you're a sad soul indeed."

"Damned to hell," Gabriel interjected.

"And this is proven exactly how?" Lin crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

"A life like this?" Jamie unexpectedly came forward. "How can anyone be saved when all we do is murder every day?"

"Oh," Lin replied, unperturbed. "And I suppose you haven't made amends? You have us, you have a choice not to kill. So what about those of the kindred who don't consume to kill?"

Was she seriously purporting that vampires weren't all that wholly evil, the walking manifestation of death itself?

Jamie jumped in, almost eagerly. "Even the ones who don't kill, what we do is an abomination, and it isn't that we ever spend time making attrition for our trespasses. This playing god, even on a small scale like this, it's hardly acceptable, let alone even morally correct." So Jamie was the philosopher, was he now?

"But you exist, so you—"

"And this is all based on your presumption of an afterlife. Perhaps this is just the way of life, even that it's basically a fairytale to most people. Who says there's such a thing as hell?"

"One cannot exist without the other," Lin harrumphed, turning her head.

"Who says there's such a thing as heaven?"

"Yes, I'm of the belief that there is something beyond this life on Earth. And that just because a vampire needs blood doesn't mean they have to kill to sustain."

"You're saying that were you ever turned, you would never drink to murder?" Gabriel snickered, shaking his head and turning away. "This is why you're far from ever being of us. We wouldn't want to give you such a disservice now, would we? Your soul is still redeemable, you can forget about us all eventually and still pass the test on Judgment Day. So I'm pretty sure that most of us think you fortunate. I wouldn't give a damn, though. I'll turn you now if you want, just to see you burn. You're a moron. You have no idea what it is to be us. And don't think that you know what it's like. Let's go back to the old days now, shall we?"

I felt a bowling ball drop in my chest. Possessiveness and jealousy was a horrible disease, and I didn't know how to get rid of it. I didn't want to know what happened between those two, but the sick side of me did want to know.

"You can go fuck yourself," Lin scoffed. "You ought to go to Jann on your hands and knees and thank him every day for letting you stay here. You're a waste of space."

"Jann's doing just fine, and you know that. Next."

"Lin, since it's just us right now," Jamie cut in, stepping forward. He seemed ready to change the subject, too. "Alec, he told me that he's having issues with Una coming here. Has he talked to you about it?"

I observed Lin's glare transform within a split second to a phony smile. "Well you couldn't ask a better person, but I'm truly not at liberty to discuss this, you know."

Yet, not even a pause between her contradictive statement. She kept digging herself deeper and deeper into the liar's pit.

"He thinks Jann's overreaching too quickly. Five years is nothing for kindred. Una is HQ, she's the real deal. Not that we aren't, and I'm not claiming to know Jann's business, but I think he's trying to bite off more than he can chew at the moment. We're stable, but we aren't exactly a group to be reckoned with. What've we got besides Jann, a speedy Gonzalez? And Bengal's hardly a Gangrel. And Alec, well he's talented enough, but he still wouldn't make the cut compared to some Anarchs around here. I'm sorry, we need a better offense team if she's going to take us seriously."

Who was Alec to Lin, and why were they so close? I looked to Gabriel who seemed wholeheartedly uninterested in the conversation. I knew this because he was looking at me when I looked up at him. My mind went blank. As if there was no one and nothing in the room but him and myself. That ostentatious and unabashed contemplative focus of his eyes, hypnotic like an ugly car crash. Only his eyes. What did he want from me?

But like the crush of a falling wall, it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps this was that presence ability that I'd heard about. This supernatural power that he supposedly possessed little of. How he'd managed to seduce those who weren't wholly enthralled with his looks. Why would I be getting flutters? I certainly did appreciate his babysitting of me, but why did it have to be excessive of an acceptable gratitude? I resented feeling this way about anyone anymore. And yet, he didn't take his eyes off of me. I looked away, deaf to Lin and Jamie's debate, and seriously considered that this was most certainly some supernatural effect trying to manipulate my emotions. I let the anger flood my heart for such cheap tricks, but my consciousness was fully aware of his oppressive contemplation. I pointedly ignored him and forced myself to listen to Lin's drivel. And again like a tidal wave of imagery, I imagined much preferring being alone with him in my room upstairs, to feel him near. I would resist, but he would win.

No! This had to be what I thought it was. Looks and presence, there was no question about it. He supposedly couldn't read minds, and if that were true like I hoped it was, it made it much more simple to resist these preternatural tendrils that produced false reveries of seduction. First step: I met his gaze.

He was unmoved.

Second step: show knowing. This probably came out more like ire, but it was the same thing.

An upward turn of his mouth.

Bastard. Don't act like you've got this all figured out.

Third step: ignore until an opportune moment arrives to inform him of his obvious manipulations. In the meantime, focus on Lin and Jamie.

Initially, I marveled at my complete inattention of the ongoing discussion. This occupied my wonder until I could get abreast of what they were talking about. And it was about Jann. After a minute, I had to pat myself on the back about how successful I was in ignoring Gabriel's not-so-subtle advances. If I had to make a conjecture, I'd say that Gabriel was hungry and that he had slim pickings this early in the night, if any at all. And what was this about her knowing so much about Alec, that loquacious lowlife? But Jann was the topic of the moment.

"You are pretty observant, Jamie, I gotta give you that," she smiled. I couldn't be sure if she were flirting with him, or if that was just her way. But regardless, Jamie was engrossed by the conversation.

"Or like when he almost let Bengal get killed that time Martin never showed up to the Rembrandt? He could be doing it for the better of all of us, but I can't deny that sometimes it feels like he only cares about his own preservation."

And even I, cynical to some extent, made a face at his naivete. Vampires, ex-Cammie, immortality, all the time in the world to play games, which one of them _wasn't_ worried about their own preservation? Forget about the afterlife, what about the now?

"You know he does, but call me human – well, I am, but that's irrelevant – but I think we're all in this together, him included. Even though he does treat us like shit."

"He don't give a shit about you ghouls," Gabriel said smugly. I looked his way but not directly at him. Appeared he'd given up on extracting some blood from me. But _had_ he ever drank from me? There were plenty of opportunities for him to have done so, and considering his rapacious five-minute stare at me not hardly a minute ago, it was a big possibility. But I wouldn't have it. Considering my newfound 'abilities,' I would likely inherit his traits. And celerity I had none. I had no proof of this.

"If I'm not mistaken," Lin frowned, "you were once a human. No wonder you and Jann butt heads, you're just like him."

I doubted I was the only one in the room who thought there'd be more to her statement. Probably something along the lines of 'ex-Cammie jerks' or something or other. But I supposed she wouldn't dare say that out loud about her boss. That awkward extra half-second passed and Jamie changed the subject again. I guess Gabriel wouldn't stoop to such levels to give her a response.

"So anything on the agenda tonight?"

Lin shook her head. "Alec didn't mention anything for us, I think Bengal and Saul are taking care of business tonight."

Jamie scoffed. "He's such a blowhard. And Donna? I assume she's going with them?"

"I think she said she's busy tonight. I'm up for anything, but not too late. I have my sister's party to go to tomorrow."

"Well if we're done bullshitting here," Gabriel sighed, "I'd like to find breakfast. Speaking of the Rembrandt, I haven't been there in a while. Who's coming?"

Lin and Jaime readily agreed, and they looked at me. I looked to Lin rather than the two hungry vampire fiends on the other side of the island. And of course, she persuaded me to tag along. I begrudgingly obliged, though I figured there was nothing else for me to do tonight.

I got into Lin's car and it vaguely crossed my mind that while I was on some sort of interminable prison sentence here in this manse, I sure did take a lot of leave from the place. But I could hardly wrap my mind around the seemingly blatant fact that I was shackled to this place and these people for a very long time, if not until a death of some sorts – which would probably be an early one. And I couldn't say that I took any pleasure in that deduction.

So instead, I continued small talk with Lin. In passing, I mused aloud as to Jann's whereabouts, and she merely shrugged off his absence as routine. She explained that the kindred made use of their own cellular service and equipment so as to keep out of the public airwaves, and that eventually I would get my own phone. If it was important, Jann would let everyone know ahead of time as to meetings and events as they happened. For the most part, however, life was monotonous, with extreme highlights of exhilaration and dramatic strife, whether internal or external.

As our destination was more or less twenty minutes away, I also figured now was a good time as any to ask her about her relationship with Alec. As suspected, she was his designated ghoul. Contrary to her demeaning depiction of Gabriel's flightiness, Alec was indeed the most erratic of them all. Which I then immediately recalled that he was supposed to be at that club last night, and only now did I realize that he hadn't showed up at all. I noted this to her, to which she presumed it was because I hadn't catered to his advances. She was, however, on very good terms with him. It was strictly a blood relationship. No jealousy on her part over his philandering. But she quickly followed up her dismissal of his flightiness by declaring that he kept the group updated as to the many Anarch establishments and connections. So, according to her words, Alec was their designated mouthpiece and professional eavesdropper. And then it occurred to me that in his being well-informed, she was most assuredly the group's gossip queen. She probably kept him updated on everyone's status, which allowed him freedom to play and schmooze wherever he pleased. She ruled the roost. To put it plainly, she was happy enough to be a part of the group for her own egotistical and busybody purposes, with a little extra physical satisfaction on the random though sporadic occasion from her male counterpart.

It sounded more impressive when she said it. In fact, a lot of things sounded more impressive as she said them at the time, but upon second thought, typically about one second later, I could tell it was merely her shtick. So, by the time we pulled up to this ritzy upper-class looking lounge (thank goodness I'd worn black leggings under mid-length boots and a presentable sweater), I felt rather confident that I'd figured out her game. Her kind wasn't uncommon. A know-it-all, superficially sincere, forever digging for more, and forever scheming to her own unique ends.

A nuisance, more or less. But harmless if you knew how to play their game.

We walked to the entrance with Gabriel and Jamie behind us. For a lounge, it was conservative, but classy with a modern deco twist. Were we coming for drinks? The vamps were hungry, and they'd come here before, so was this a kindred place to wine and dine? It was an active place, couples and meandering friends mingling and pacing to their respective destinations. With a few seconds of scrutiny, I came to the conclusion that all its patrons had to be humans. Or could vamps blend in that well? Was there some secret basement where the wannabe ghouls hung out to whore their blood?

I supposed it was the latter because as soon as we passed through the revolving glass door into a high-ceilinged grey and silver foyer with lavender and dark blue accents, Jamie and Gabriel were nowhere to be found. But Lin thought nothing of it. She nodded to the attendant and continued walking. I followed her down the left hallway past the curving stairs. Tinkles of glasses and a soft jazz melody trickled into my ears, a pleasant and aristocratic change to the dark atmosphere I'd been choking on for days. How did they go from the seedy Anarch club of last night to a swanky joint like this?

I sidled up to Lin who merely smiled at me. "They know us," she said, pausing before an open doorway from which I could hear a live band and the titters of laughter and conversation. "It looks real nice here, but it's really just a place for sweet sixteens and the weekend bar run, minus the low class folks."

"And where did Gabriel and Jamie go? Is this a vampire place or something?"

"Well, in a ways, yes, you're right," she said, not bothering to speak quietly despite a group of women that came sauntering by, nudging us closer to the wall. "This is kind of the Anarch's meeting spot, so you have the chance of running into anyone from some of the biggest Anarch big wigs to the newest fledgling – granted, they meet the right person. And ghouls are welcome here, of course. Now come on, let's have a drink and get you acquainted!"

But that was the last thing I wanted to do. Sure, a drink was fine, but networking? Not interested.

Nevertheless, Lin dragged me into a large room where a bar lined nearly the entire western wall, the band played in the opposite corner, and windows lined the whole of the back wall. The room was buzzing from the lively but behaved mass of bodies that littered most every round table set. The bar patrons were scattered here and there, and I followed Lin to the counter. She ordered herself a Cosmo, how fitting, and I wished only for a vodka with juice. Screwdriver, the tender decided for me. Give it a couple screws, I told him, to which he chuckled.

The atmosphere was light and easy. I settled into my stool, watching and listening to Lin prattle on to people and old friends she hadn't seen in a long while, while I sipped my extra strong screwdriver. And much preferring to be somewhere more quiet where I wasn't forced to smile and greet somebody new every five minutes. I leaned sideways on the counter because twisting back and forth was getting tiresome.

Halfway through my drink, you can imagine who was suddenly in the stool beside me, which was technically behind me since I was facing away from the room's entrance – so consequently, I did not see him enter.

"Looks like you're going for some serious inebriation."

Buzzed, my reflexes nullified my jumpy heart, and instead, I turned slowly as my partially numbed mind comprehended that voice as belonging to Gabriel.


	9. Saturday Night

And there he was, looking a little less pasty than usual. And if I wasn't mistaken, his eyes looked, well, a little clearer. Crispier, as it were. So he'd probably just fed, then. At least that meant I was off the menu, though even now, he looked rather fetching. No, I chided myself, mustn't see anything but a heartless self-centered freak of a homo sapien in front of me, nothing more.

"Wet-brained already?" He tsked, shaking his head. "I don't need to read your mind to know that you're having some issues tonight."

Like a snap of the fingers, he became Gabriel again, and I got my mind back. And it clicked. "Stop doing that shit to me, Gabriel, I know it's you, not me."

"Yes," he hung his head but picked it back up almost immediately, a mocking gleam in the corner of his eye. "It's all me, not you. You're just perfect, I'm the one with the problem. And I don't know what you're talking about."

"Damn it," I glowered, wrapping my hands around my glass. "Don't pretend like you don't have some presence going on, I know you're trying to manipulate me. I'm not stupid, you know." I took a sip from my drink. No point in nursing it now. Going back home and back under my covers to close my eyes and sleep was a tempting idea at this moment.

He leaned forward, scowling. "You don't talk about that kind of thing around here, you better keep your mouth shut."

"I'll say what I want, I'm being as clandestine as possible at the moment now, anyway."

"You're getting drunk at the moment now, is what I see."

"Where's your buddy, by the way?"

Gabriel leaned to the side, looking over my shoulder. "I would ask you the same."

I turned around, and sure enough, Lin had gone and disappeared somewhere. A quick glance around the room showed her halfway across the room laughing and gesticulating wildly with a group of people. She had a big mouth, that one. I shrugged, turning back around. "Guess she had better things to do than be seen anywhere near the likes of you."

"Makes you the loser," he narrowed his eyes, but smirking. "Come on, bring your drink and let's find somewhere more tolerable than this."

Damn him. "Now that you mention it, I could go for a smoke right now." I began sliding off the stool, rather amazed at how quickly I'd gotten toasted with not even an entire drink. They must be using something in my drink much smoother and stronger than my usual cheap isopropyl-flavored Popov. "I'm not going anywhere alone with you, though."

"Who said anything about being alone?" His hand reached out and grabbed my elbow, steadying me, meeting my eyes. "That's the last place you need to be right now."

I ignored his quips, even that it made sense a few seconds after I opened my mouth. But nevermind his honest assumption about my waves of nausea. Chinese food and vodka, it was a hazardous combination. "Thanks for the cigarettes, by the way. You're the one that's been getting me my fix?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think anyone cared enough to notice your habit. I was a human once."

"Well, thanks," I nodded. With a drink in my hand, and Gabriel keeping his hand on my other arm, he led me out of the room, back into the corridor, then into the chic foyer, then through the revolving doors, back onto the concrete (thank goodness I wasn't wearing stilettos like most of the ladies here or I'd have fallen on my ass at least four times already), past a few people sucking on their cancer sticks, and farther out in front of the building where an unoccupied bench sat a few yards away from the entrance.

I lit up before we sat, and I almost fell into the seat. And I was completely embarrassed.

"Is life so detestable that you have to drink the day away like this?"

I looked at him. "You're kidding, right?"

He smirked, shaking his head. I could strangle him for his glibness. He went on, ignoring my derision: "None of us asked for this. Most of us, that is. At this point, you don't have much to go back to. And whatever's waiting for you out there right now, you wouldn't like it. Make the best of your situation, but you don't have to piss it away with alcohol."

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you care?"

"Well, I can't woo you when you're like this, for one," he tilted his head, challenging me to an insult in response.

"Does alcohol supersede the supernatural?"

"Does it?"

I raised my fist, feigning aggression, but he didn't even flinch. "Honestly, can we just have a normal conversation here instead of this stupid flirting crap?"

"Who's flirting? I'm serious."

I growled, lowered my hand and took a hard drag from my cigarette, exhaling quickly. "Where's Jamie?"

"Stuck on some bird. He wants a ghoul, and I think he can find a nice girl here. Don't know if Jann would let another human in his house, though. But, you're something of an experiment to him, so maybe he'd be game. You're not part of the brood."

"Experiment? What'd'you mean by that?"

He rolled his eyes, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and giving me a scornful expression. "Now I don't know if the others are playing dumb, or maybe this is something only former Cammies notice – or maybe it's something only auspex notices, but you're not the average human. I see it."

"I thought you said you didn't have auspex," I frowned, puffing on my smoke.

"I did. But you have to be pretty fucking dimwitted to not see that there's some sort of power in you. Hard to put my finger on it, but I have some ideas."

Obfuscate? And what was the other thing Jann was asking me about? The colors inside people? Whatever that was called. "What's your ideas?"

"Don't know. I haven't seen anything out of you, yet. But it's something I can feel. The Caitiff probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference, though. Guess that's why nobody cares about you. Except for Jann. Ex-Cammie, of course. You're his new pet."

"Does he usually have pets?" I dreaded his answer. Not that it meant I wasn't anything special, but if I was merely just a pet, then that meant others had had my abilities... and who knew what happened to them. Long gone, I was sure. And was I going to be some guinea pig for him? Apparently, Jann had a dark past. Probably still does.

"Not since I've known him. But he's Tremere, you never know. You think us Torry's are liars? You should get to know Jann and his Tremeres better. Then you can talk about compulsive lying and deliberate manipulation while still managing to get away with it. That's something we all know from personal experience. All of us."

"What do you have against Jann? I see you guys fight a lot." I wanted to set down my glass, but I was afraid it would fall over. And I might still need that bottom third of the remaining drink. Instead, I took another puff.

"If you knew the relationship between Toreadors and Tremeres, then you'd understand. But, since you do not, I will enlighten you. To sum it up, we don't like each other very much. Tremeres usurped an entire clan to become one of the major Cammie clans, and they're like the mafioso of the kindred. Deals, special abilities and connections, favors, that sort of thing. All because they know thaumaturgy... AKA blood magic. Like what you saw with Green. You think that's magic?"

"No, I thought that was morbid."

He tsked again. "You thought _that_ was morbid? Jann could've done that it in his sleep. You haven't even seen a tenth of what Tremeres are capable of. But I don't want to talk about it. Suffice it to say, we don't like each other, that's all."

"Some dumb clan rivalry, that's why you guys butt heads?" Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

He frowned and looked away. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"And yeah," I scoffed. "I don't buy it. Something you're not telling me."

"Alright!" He turned to me suddenly, making my heart stop momentarily in my chest. "He's always had something against me, what the hell else am I going to think? I put in my two cents, I do my duty, I give him ideas and insight, and yet he still treats me like I'm a fucking failure."

I bit my tongue. No, calling him a loser would be crossing the line. So I let it go. "I'm sure you're aware of your significant ego?"

"Not at significant as Jann's."

"Oh please," I waved my hand, "I don't buy that one either for one second. You're a Toreador, and I don't need bricks to fall on my head to know that your clan is pretty vain and megalomaniacal."

"You're an ass."

"Let me guess," I took a dramatic drag from the cigarette. "You turned Jamie."

His entire body swiveled toward me. "Who told you that?" The look in his eyes... it was ominous. Like, if I didn't watch myself walking home tonight, bad things would happen to me. The irreversible kind. But I didn't think it would light such a bonfire under his ass like this. I immediately regretted saying what I'd just pieced together.

"Just a deduction from a lot of things. But I see how you take care of him. And the way he sticks up for you."

"Maybe there is substance to your apprenticeship with Jann. As far as that is concerned, would you make sure he doesn't brainwash you into creating some offshoot Tremere cult with him. I wouldn't put such a thing past _his_ ego."

I leaned back on the bench, feigning comfort, but secretly enjoying the relaxation. With Gabriel, I just felt more, how should I say it, calm. "You turned Jamie and forced Jann to accept him? Now I'm starting to see why he doesn't like you. You're forcing things on him. No boss likes that."

"You're wrong." He folded his arms and leaned back on the bench, too.

"It makes perfect sense, though. You're encroaching on his personal space," I raised my nose, taking an aristocratic puff of my cigarette.

"You fail to understand the bigger picture here, Charlie, this animosity between Jann and me isn't exactly personal. You need to know the Camarilla to know why he hates Toreadors. Which means me, even that neither of us are Camarilla anymore."

"So why in the world would you ever join sides with a Tremere if you two hate each other so much? You know I know nothing about the Camarilla."

He scowled, quickly leaning forward and turning his head away. He seemed to be contemplating laying it all on me, or sticking it to me. For curiosity's sake, I hoped it was the former. But for the sake of bickering and cynicism, I figured it would be the latter. Instead, a minute, then two, went by in silence. I certainly wasn't going to break it. Let him break the silence, for I certainly didn't possess anything incriminating or useful against him. There was a reason why he was here, and it preceded his hostile feelings for the Tremere. They must have manipulated the Toreadors pretty badly for him to hate them so much. But was it possible that he'd always known Jann? Which made me wonder just how many vampires and clans and whatnot wandered around this planet. What were the odds? Gabriel did mention coming from Jersey, though he never had said from where.

After another minute, it was now a principle of wills. I took the last drag from my cigarette and flicked it expertly away at about twenty-five feet away into the driveway. How had I gotten so buzzed? It needed to go away, I don't know why I did this to myself, especially when in such precarious predicaments. To be alone once again with Gabriel? He was the only one who seemed to not have a second agenda or a will to use me, other than to play coy jokes on me. But underneath his immature approach, he was the only one who'd taken note of my needs. And, yes, coincidentally, he was always saving me.

"Will found me," Gabriel exclaimed, making me jump out of my mental revelries. But he didn't notice. "It's true, I was Camarilla. But I hated it there. My sire was one of the clan gossips, harpies, they call them over there, and I spent most of my early years trying to get away from them. I can't tell you how many times I tried to get away from them."

He hadn't looked up from the paving stones yet. This confession had to be serious. Or was he making it all up as he went along?

"It was this Tremere, Delonis, she was the one that took care of my reprimanding from the Camarilla. Bad enough my sire never stuck up for me, I think he liked to see me suffer. Did he make me suffer. Then nurse me back to health. And suffer again. Should've been a doctor, he had a twisted affection for cerebral torment. Make a long story short, I'm finally free. For now. I know it's only a matter of time before they track me down and bring me back again for a good beating. Maybe more, who knows. They think I'm sabotaging their anti-Anarch affairs, but truth of the matter is, I could give two shits about their greed. The only reason I went along with Will to join Jann's idiotic little band is to buy time. I need to get away from this area altogether... but it's not easy."

Hesitating? That wasn't altogether a truthful statement, then. But I let you slide, Gabriel, you're a sad sack. "Did you know Jann was Tremere when you first joined?"

"No. Not until I saw him face to face. I knew what he was immediately. I have my ideas about him, but I keep them to myself." He turned and looked at me. "I don't trust anyone, Charlie, not even you. But I tell you this because I don't know what to make of you. You give off the feeling like you're kindred, but I know you're not."

"Do you now?" I glowered, presuming he didn't know what I was alluding to. But his curiosity had to have tempted him.

"Do I what? You think I tasted you all those times I've saved you?"

Well that said it all, which is why I wanted to believe what he said next.

"Of course not. I got orders from Jann to fetch you from Shand's, and I thought nothing of it, but when I saw him talking to you like he did, I knew you were something important to him. And that's when I noticed you had some quirky traits about you. Tell me, what are you hiding?"

He'd told me some of his life, what was the harm? "Jann thinks I'm taking on the traits of those who bite me."

Gabriel's face blanked, devoid of any emotion.

I couldn't be sure if that was a good or bad sign. How could one interpret such an ambiguous response? "Does that make sense?"

"It's mythical," he immediately replied. "But I'm no expert on the molecular structure of the gift. This is Tremere territory, and darker. Us Toreadors don't experiment on our kind, or your kind for that matter. You're beautiful, or you're not. You're talented and outgoing, or you're not. But we don't do analyzations on the cellular level. I guarantee you that at this very moment, Jann is formulating some scientific reason as to why you're taking on random kindred traits. What traits are we talking about here, anyway?"

"Mm," I knew the alcohol was making me talk, and that I'd have no plausible excuse whatsoever should someone ask me why I divulged such information to this conniving man to begin with, which angered me, but I continued on nonetheless: "He thinks I've developed a sort of obfuscate skill, and maybe something to do with colors and such."

"Colors?" Gabriel tilted his head, looking at me curiously.

"Colors in... people?" I found it hard to describe.

"That would be an auspex trait. And you're supposedly getting these traits from those who bit you?"

"...Yes. Has this been recorded before?"

"Honey, everything's been documented before. There's nothing new under the sun. But there are rare ones like yourself every so often. I've never heard of an actual case like yours in this day and age, but now I have. What makes me curious is why you would have auspex traits? Shand was part Malkavian, true, but they don't possess anything remotely like what you're saying. Intuitions don't have colors."

"I meant colors inside people. Like they're..."

"...Radiating a color or pattern?" Gabriel finished, sniffing. "Yes, that's called auras. Different colors mean different emotions. Everyone has an aura, even you humans. It's a subconscious reading of a person, sometimes noticed and sometimes not. It's a precursor to telepathy. Does that mean anything to you?"

I looked up at him quickly, noting his scrutinizing glare.

"Are you implying that someone other than Shand bit me?"

"Yes."

I hadn't expected him to be so blunt, but I faltered for a moment, picking at my cuticles. "Jann did."

He scoffed, leaning back on the bench. "No doubt for an experiment. He's far more keen than I am, I'm sure he noticed Shand's infection on you way sooner than I did. So Jann's put his mark on you. If I had a taste of you, understand that I'd be dead because Jann would know. His intuition and observations are annoyingly accurate. So I don't doubt that there's something interesting going on with you. Fucking Tremere."

There was some degree of respect on his part, but why he continued to resent Jann was beyond me.

"I think Jann's trying to see how much saliva he can exchange before you reach your maximum potential as a non-ghoul. You see, this is a small reason why he hates me. Because your average Anarch won't know dick-all about Camarillas. This is why he gets away with everything. But I know. And I know the games the Tremere play. I know how they make an experiment look like a charitable deed. I know they're full of shit, is what it is. Watch Jann decide to move you to some secluded laboratory. You can't definitely not deny my words then. And if you think you can escape from this weird situation, then you're badly mistaken."

"I don't even know where to start when it comes to getting away from you people. Believe me, I haven't even contemplated such a task."

"Don't waste your time then. Jann has his marks all over you, and," he leaned toward me, his eyes piercing into mine. "If anything, try and accept the fact that you'll be his experiment for the next unknown months, maybe years. That guy's got all the time in the world. Trust me. You're in his clutches now, and that's all you'll ever know for the rest of your life. You may or may not become a ghoul. But I highly doubt you'll become a Tremere. Don't think you'll be so 'lucky.' "

"Why would I think that's lucky?"

"Well, supposedly, the Tremeres are beyond feuding with us trivial clans, they're taking on the Ventrue. And then we're all fucked. We'd be no different than the Sabbat clans, sick maniacs that they are. It's bad enough that the Camarilla have blood magicians in the Camarilla. How the centuries degenerate, it's a sad sight to witness."

I frowned at him. "I thought you hated the Camarilla."

"I do. But what's left?"

"How long were you a Camarilla for, anyway?"

"Too long. And may I remind you that the amount of time I loathed being a part of them immensely supersedes the time I was one of them. Thirty-something years? Forty? I don't even care to keep track. I was turned sometime in the sixties, that's all. Don't ask me about then. It's memories that can't be forgotten soon enough, if ever. It's better if I don't talk about it."

But the Camarilla intrigued me. "So your sire was a harpy? What does that mean?"

He scowled and rolled his eyes. "The city gossips. They know everything that's going on with everybody. My sire, Filipe, he took care of one of the Elysium in the five boroughs. Elysium is a neutral ground where kindred of all sorts can mingle and gossip. But harpies are the king, or queen, gossips of them all. They know everybody, and everybody hates them. Filipe was trying to make me into a harpy. I went along with it in the beginning, until I realized it's all a load of shit. I'm not spending my life chasing after other people's business. I don't care about them. I never have. And I'll say it again: I only give a shit about myself. I have my shortcomings. I'm not a well-rounded Toreador, yeah, I admit it. I'm good at being fast when it counts, but I'm not really good at anything else. And everyone else can go fuck themselves."

"You mean your presence ability?"

"Fuck that. I'm talking about auspex, the same shit Jann pulls on you. The telepathy, the reading auras, perception, all that. Can't do it. I've been around long enough to tell kindred from humans, but I can't see auras. You're not even a ghoul, and you can see auras. Imagine how I feel." He paused until he made sure I made eye contact with him. "Humans like yourself... yeah, you could be going places, kid."

"It's entirely chemical and out of my control, Gabriel, because I didn't ask for any of this. In fact, I don't want to become one of you guys at all. I'm not going to voluntarily get myself damned for good. And I'm not exactly looking forward to Jann's itinerary. I don't want any of it at all."

"But you're going there whether you like it or not," he smirked, shrugging and looking away. "Whoever turns you is going to have a hell of a time controlling you."

"And you don't think Jann would turn me?" I couldn't say I wasn't a little disappointed at this, but yet, why should I be? Contradictions like this, I knew, were entirely unnatural and externally forced. One of those thoughts was mine, the opposite thought influenced by the damn kindred. And I couldn't figure out which was which.

"He's going to push your limits. He already is. Your first mission is with a full-blown Cammie tomorrow? Yeah, he's testing you alright. And he wouldn't put you with a Cammie if he didn't think you'd succeed. Damn. The more I think about it, the more it boggles my mind. The hell does he see in you?"

"I don't know. I wish I didn't have what he saw."

"Then you'd have been dead a long time ago."

"I..." I trailed off, intending on saying that I'd prefer to be dead already, but I knew that wasn't true.

"And I can't believe no one else sees this. Well, maybe they do, but they're not letting it on."

"I don't think they like you as it is, and they wouldn't let you in on it anyway."

He scoffed, leaning back and putting his arms on the back of the bench. His left hand settled behind me, but I quickly presumed it was nothing personal. Did I make him feel as comfortable as he did to me? If he decided to come on to me though... I wasn't responsible. "They all think I'm still a Cammie. They don't know me, and they can think whatever the hell they want. I'm Gabriel, not a Cammie. Like your dumbass friend Lin over there, they can put me down all they want, but I'm not some mutt like they are."

"That's pretty conceited of you, aren't you supposed to be on their side?" I smiled, giddy to display his arrogance to his face.

"Fuck them!" He exclaimed, looking at me. "I told you, I'm only buying time putzing around with these morons. Don't they know that they're just Camarilla pawns in all of this? Please, I see right through them all. They think they're doing something significant, something that's going to change the game, but what they don't realize is that they're only doing the Camarilla's dirty work. Somebody has to do it, and it's not the Camarilla. You see what I mean?"

I did, unfortunately. "You're telling me this, why?"

"Because I know you're not stupid. Damn it, Charlie, your reputation precedes you, and someone's going to hear about it, and you'll be gone. Somebody's going to snatch you up because..." He trailed off, raising an eyebrow and glancing away to watch an inebriated couple saunter away nearby.

Somebody? Was Jann that significant in this vampire world? This strange vampire politick? "Because why?"

He genuinely looked interrupted in whatever thought he was lost in, but snapped his attention back to me. "Because you're special."

I rolled my eyes. "That's not what you were going to say – you've been straight all this time, why do you have to be a dick now?"

He made his lips into a line and dramatically rolled his eyes to me. "I wouldn't give away all your secrets now, would I?"

"My secrets? Those are secrets kept from me!" I growled, narrowing my eyes. "I don't know this supernatural shit, the least you could do is teach me!"

"Sorry, I know nothing of obfuscate and auspex. I'm not gifted in such ways."

"What's so special about it anyway?"

"Because nobody can possess those abilities at the same time. Only certain clans carry those abilities, but never those two simultaneously. Malk, or Tremere. Well, some can, I think? But you have to be somebody pretty fucking old to have an ability outside of your clan. Who knows, some Sabbat clan can take you and you'll have even more abilities. You see, us kindred are limited. But you're the glitch. You're the one that possesses something a little extra that takes other kindred centuries to obtain. You, gifted with no effort whatsoever. Go figure Jann's all over you. What a fucking find. Me, I don't care. You're a tool and a bartering chip is what I see."

"I'm nobody's tool."

"Keep telling yourself that," he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "I'd like to think you mean that. I kind of like you. You're delightfully cynical and bitter like me. I like people like me, obviously. But you're just chaff in the wind. I see lots of power plays and games going on around you. And you'll just be thrown back and forth between them like a tennis ball. Good times. Have fun. But yeah, I do feel sorry for you." He leaned just a tad toward me. "Because I do like you. You'll get pissed off at them, just like I did. Trust me."

"Jamie isn't like you at all, but you like him.."

"That's another reason why I like him." He smiled and looked off into the distance.

I huffed and looked away, promptly lighting up a cigarette. And now it all made sense. Anita Hyde, not being a Caitiff like the majority of this crew, but rather some superior Camarilla, would know I wasn't a ghoul. And she would probably see me for what I was: a wildcard. And consequently try and take advantage of me for it. Well that made the game that much easier to play. Manipulate, I could do. "And how much do you like me?"

He squinted his eyes, his expression disdainful as he turned to look at me. "Wrong, missy. I don't take to come-ons. I play the game, not you. But I'm not interested in you that way, so stop trying to be cute. It's ugly."

And that hurt. But I hoped I'd disguised my distress quickly enough for him to not notice. Apparently, I was wrong.

"Oh please, I can give you whatever you want, but don't expect to find anything interesting or meaningful here. I am what I am, and I'll never be everything you want me to be because I'm only what I want to be. And that never lines up with what everybody else wants. I'll tell you now before you fall too deep, okay? I'm not capable of anything serious. But like I said, I'll give you whatever you want."

And of course, that's the last thing I'd want. Was it so hard to find loyalty or commitment in the world, natural or not?

He nodded, a knowing in his gaze. "I know. That's not what you want. Sorry. I can't be wooed. I don't want to be flirted with. I deal the cards, and anybody who thinks otherwise is a total turnoff for me. No, you didn't screw yourself, I'm genuinely not interested in you that way, never was. I'm not interested that way in anybody, actually, so don't take it personally. I get off on making you squibs drool over me, that's all. Worship me. That's what I like. I'll make you all die before I ever give an ounce of myself. It's just the way it is. I get off on you people knowing you can never have me. And there's my mysterious façade explained: If you know you can have me when I really do want you, then it's not attractive to me. But if you don't want me, then you'll never be receptive to my advances anyway. And that's unattractive, too. So really, what it all boils down to is this: I hate everybody."

"What if one genuinely doesn't want you?"

He pursed his lips. "Then I'll make it my life's goal to make you want me. It's no fun for either of us. But I'll keep trying. And I always win. A little touch of presence always takes care of any problem."

"So you _do_ have that ability! I knew it. Fucking liar."

"Liar how?" He shrugged, smiling anyway. "If you don't like me at all, then I'll be obsessed. But you always lose, because I always win."

"You're so fucking arrogant."

"I know," he smiled, glancing at me. "I like you, you know that, right?"

"Don't know why you have to keep reminding me," I raised an eyebrow, glaring at him.

"Because I really do. I'll be a little sad when you're kidnapped. Or snuffed, could be whichever. You truly don't like me, though you pretend to. You think I'm a shithead, but you can't help but like me. Is it me, or is it just my presence?"

"It's your damn ability, why don't you just admit it?"

He shook his head. "No. Half the time, I don't even know I'm putting it on like that. Guess I'm more vulnerable that I'd like to admit. There, I admit it."

"Or maybe you're just full of shit?"

He laughed, loudly enough that I noticed a few people turn their heads. Well, I'm glad it was amusing. "You done with your drink? Want to get a little busy tonight? I don't think it'll end up anywhere good, though."

"Absolutely not. You're attractive, Gabriel, yes," and I couldn't believe I was declaring such a thing, "but I would never do such a dishonest thing with you. There'd be a lot of consequences with that anyway, and I'm not into risky business."

"Yeah, with your luck, you'd end up pregnant," he sniggered, sighing and looking pleased with himself. "And wouldn't that be something. No, I'm happy enough getting a little touchy feely with you, nothing more. Keeps it exciting, wouldn't you say?"

I huffed, turning my head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, just being near to you. God knows if I touch you, it could turn ugly. In more ways than one."

I wanted to laugh at the insinuation if he wasn't being so insulting. But he made me laugh regardless. Fucking alcohol. That Gabriel with his smarminess. And I'd hardly blinked when his face was not hardly half an inch from mine, and I was suddenly staring into his crystal blue eyes, cool and in control, looking down on me as if daring me to make the first move.

But I wasn't.

I felt his lips brush against mine, and I'd hardly began to close my eyes when I knew he wasn't there anymore.

However, I did close my eyes, battling my senses of temporary frustration and eternal relief. When I opened them, he was nowhere at all. But I knew that. I didn't really wish to accept that, but I wasn't surprised. It was all about the game, right?

I stared at the same piece of shrubbery for the minutes it took for me to finished my cigarette. Fawning over Gabriel was meaningless, and instead, I mulled over all the information he'd proffered. But for what? Why would he enlighten me about Jann's motives? Share his past, along with some of his secrets? And then I remembered that I hadn't practiced my obfuscate ability with him like Jann had instructed. But why would Jann tell me to do such a thing? Did Jann know that Gabriel thought he had him figured out? Or since Gabriel was once Camarilla, he'd notice the difference? How much did Jann know?


	10. Sunday Afternoon, Early Evening

Much to my relief, the remainder of Saturday night was entirely uneventful. I came back to the manse after two, futzed around for an hour and collapsed in my bed after my consumption of copious amount of alcohol. Jann's dining room bar was stock full of drinks. And I'd drank myself to sleep in horrible anticipation of Sunday's Yale fundraiser where I was supposedly supposed to set up an Anita Hyde for vampiric abduction.

My first crime.

Or an accomplice to it, at least.

My sleep was restless and tormented. But my nightmares of Gabriel and Jann were the least of my problems. I awoke a quarter after two in the afternoon, feeling miserable over the excessive amount of drinking and how achy my body felt. I reached over for my cigarettes and found a note resting atop it. I sat up, my heart racing as I reached over to read the letter. It was from Jann. So who came in here and dropped it off for me? Damn creep. It didn't matter. They snuck in here in and out at will, and I was clearly oblivious. I'd have to leave a note for Jann next time. I hadn't seen him last night, much to my chagrin, but what else could I do?

The note clarified everything I needed to know for tonight: mainly, time and place. Still, I had no phone.

As per note, I was to leave here at four thirty to get there for six, and as far as I knew, Lin was taking me. Formal attire. I lit my cigarette and moped in silence. I wished my bathrobe would come to me without my getting out of bed. It was a quarter to three, and everything was nearly over and done with. And the pervading thought in my mind was that if Gabriel was supposedly this coy and keen Toreador with not a lot of abilities to speak of (or so he claimed, this I began to wonder), then how much more fascinating would a full-blown Camarilla broad be?

It wasn't a pleasant thought.

But I'd deal with it one step at a time. I savored my morning cigarette. I'd three hours to get myself ready, so I figured I had the time to enjoy a cup of coffee before getting myself prepped. God only knew what I'd say to her tonight

I made my way downstairs, and as I leaned on the counter blowing on my coffee and pondering on last night's conversation, it suddenly occurred to me that Gabriel had mentioned his sire's name being Filipe.

And that was the name I'd found Gabriel's name under. I tried to make sense of my thoughts and memories. If I recalled correctly, Jann had Filipe's phone number.

Was that important? Why would Jann have Filipe's number? Wasn't Gabriel's past supposed to be unknown? Had Jann manipulated it out of him? But then wouldn't Filipe's name be below Gabriel's? Was it purely coincidence? But that didn't explain Jann having Filipe's number. Gabriel had to have been strong-armed for it.

This was all speculation and I shook my head before taking a sip of coffee.

Invigorating. The sun was still shining, and I didn't have to go outside to know that it was going to be a crispy October evening. And Lin was bringing me tonight? Oh boy. I was surprised she wasn't here being my tailor and makeup artist. Then again, it was only two thirty.

By three thirty, I was out of the shower and drying my hair. Who was I dressing up for? But I guess I couldn't exactly go to the fundraise without looking presentable. After all, I had to look like a rich donor of some sort. I glanced at the note again. Daughter of a doctor, name Dominick, who wasn't able to attend the night's festivities. I'd go as Charlene, with a new surname though. Fischer, was it? Did it matter?

I'd just slipped into my little black dress when I heard a knock on my door. My heart leapt into my throat, but the setting sun told me it was no vampire at my door.

"Coming," I pulled down my skirt, rather annoyed at how the length didn't reach my knees. And I didn't exactly have a thirty inch inseam, either. But it was the only black dress in the closet.

I opened my door.

It was Lin, and she was all smiles. "You look fab!"

Enough with the absurd vernacular. "Thanks," I smiled back, stepping aside to let her in. "I had a feeling you'd be here early."

"Of course!" She flitted into the room, taking a curious glance around the room before looking back at me. "This is your first big night, I wouldn't miss it! And I want to make sure you get everything right, don't take it personally. I'm sort of the designated stylist around here."

And so for the proceeding forty-five minutes, she nitpicked my hair and makeup and shoes, all the while assuring me that my little black dress was perfectly fine.

In essence, wasteful drivel about fashion and cosmetics. Not very interesting. Or edifying. At least I'd managed to convince her that there was nothing wrong with wearing my hair down and keeping my eyeliner at a minimum.

As I sat back in her little red Chevy coupe, I felt entirely out of place and awkward. I wasn't comfortable, and the anticipation of not knowing what to expect was driving me into nearly full-blown hyperventilation. But Lin kept talking, and I kept trying to keep myself distracted. At least until we drove out of the manse driveway.

"So you know what you need to do, right? What to expect and all that stuff?"

It felt erroneous driving out in the setting sun. Had it hardly been a week since this beautiful disaster began? Could time have gone by so quickly, yet have dragged on longer than it really was? Why hadn't I given thought yet to the life I seemed to be leaving behind? What would my mother and sister think? When would my father notice I wasn't home? Was this truly my fate, to carry on with this weird crew? Did I accept their immoral existence already? Lord knows I wasn't dreaming everything I'd seen. But why didn't it bother me? And what the hell was Lin talking about? "Hm?" I turned to look at her.

"Are you okay? I asked if you're familiar with these sort of functions?"

"Oh. It's just dinner with some exhibit on stage or some shit, I'm assuming? Sit and listen to them drivel on about whatever project they want money for."

"Close enough," she nodded, looking rather disappointed in not being able to brag about her knowledge in all things hoity toity. "You won't have to mingle, though. Unless Anita mingles, then it might be a good idea to keep an eye on her. But as far as Jann said, you'll probably keep her attention for whatever reason."

Test the waters: "Did he ever say why I'd hold her attention? I'm kind of at a loss there."

She shook her head. "Not really, but I'm thinking it has something to with Shand. He bit you, right? I see your scab, it's almost gone, but a kindred would notice every little thing. If she asks you about it, what are you supposed to say?"

I internally sighed, annoyed at the schooling. But I responded in kind, and she generally approved, but always putting in her two cents and minor opinionated 'suggestions' along the way. I did learn, however, that I would be observed by a few of our group's members. Alec was to be one of them. Was she really that dangerous? Or was that normal? Did it have something to do with the clan strengths as opposed to the absence thereof in the Caitiff? I hadn't seen the others in action, but Gabriel was impressive all by himself. Were the clanless less impressive, is that why I'd never seen them utilize their abilities?

"Are you okay?"

I turned to Lin, smiling and shaking my head. "No, sorry, I mean, yes, I'm okay. I just have a lot of questions."

"I know," she nodded knowingly, a smile creeping onto her lips. The kind of smile that meant she was about to pat herself on the back again. "It's confusing in the beginning, but you get familiar with all the new terms and everything after a while. Took me a couple of months, and I _am_ rather the curious type. I think you are, too. So you'll catch on quickly. And you'll feel great. I never felt more alive, I actually feel... what's the word, significant? Like, I finally have a purpose in life. I have real goals, and there aren't any downsides. Kind of amazing, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I agreed half-heartedly. Because I knew damn well it was all a lie. These vampires, or kindred, as they liked to call themselves, were too self-absorbed to give a damn about anybody but their own singular self. Whether they were ex-establishment, anti-establishment, or the so-called bad guys, they only participated out of necessity for the sake of competition and survival. It's the penultimate basic rule that society degenerated to: survival of the fittest. But what would Darwin have to say about conditional immortals? What happened to the ego then? Incurable megalomania?

"You sure you're okay for tonight?"

Lin interrupted my thoughts, as usual – or maybe I was just musing too much today in lieu of the task I had tonight. Well, at least I'd have some real food tonight. Slightly processed, but a treat nonetheless. "Yes, I'm just a little overwhelmed right now. I'll be okay, I'm just falling into introspection at the moment. But I can do what I have to do, don't worry. You'll be watching, too?"

"I'll be in the area. I'm kind of the designated chauffeur around here for Alec, so whatever job he has, I'm on site when need be. So I'll be around," she smiled. "Not exactly watching, I don't have those kind of heightened senses yet, but one day..." She trailed off, and I knew it was intentional.

And I wasn't going to cater to her ego-stroking. I'm sure she'd make a hell of a vamp, in all sarcasm. "I just want to be sure I won't be left stranded, that's all. I admit, I'm not a hundred percent sure how risky this mission is, let alone how important it is, because at this point, I could give two shits about what Jann does to help himself, but I'm not really ready to throw myself to the wolves for some unattainable objective." Eat that, Lin. Her pretentiousness was starting to get under my skin and I couldn't help myself but throw it right back at her.

"Oh, it's very important. They've been trailing her for a couple weeks now. We have her dossier and the list of all her crimes against us and she really needs to be taken care of."

"They're going to kill her?"

She leaned forward, smirking a little. "I think so, and wouldn't that be something. I guarantee you that a lot of things are going to change once that happens. We're Anarchs, sure, but if one of us is guilty of killing a Cammie, especially one that's this popular? Well, I think we'll be seeing – or running away from – some Cammies, for sure. That'll be exciting!"

Personally, I didn't think she sounded very sincere about it being exciting, but I let it slide, giving her the obligatory facial reactions of wonder and amusement instead. Yeah, I'm a phony when I want to be, what of it? "Sure will be, especially since I'll be totally clueless!"

"Aw, whatever questions you have, I can answer them – or one of us can, Alec is pretty relatable and down-to-earth."

And a frisky licentious S.O.B., but I let that be, too. "Thanks, good to know."

"Here we are," she exclaimed, inhaling dramatically and turning the wheel.

I immediately began memorizing my surroundings, but wondered how useful a planogram of the locale would be should a 'kindred' be after you. We pulled into a driveway advertising the Billingsby Manor. "I'm just dropping you off, but I won't be far. You ready?"

I took a deep breath and respired slowly and steadily. "Nothing I can do for it now, yeah? I'll be okay, don't worry about me. Well, I'm sure you'll know how I'm doing anyway."

There wasn't anything amusing about that statement, but she giggled nonetheless. I couldn't help but think that there was something sinister about her laughter, some negativity or whatnot. But I ignored it. The entrance was coming into view, and it was ready to begin. The sun was nearly flush with the horizon, so I had perhaps half an hour to situate myself before this nighttime fiend made her appearance. I quickly imagined her not even showing up and saving me from a moment of failure, but I knew such was not likely. Luck had a way of working against me. Strongly.

Awkward and forcefully subtle, I stepped out of her Chevy, not like the Beamers and Benzes that surrounded us, and made myself as dignified and pretentiously unapproachable as possible. Of course I felt neither. The valet driver waver her off, and she waved to me. I waved back to her once, then focused on the door to this ridiculously expensive affair.

Fundraiser for the art department indeed.

The first thing I noticed was that it seemed the guests here were more interested in catching up with old connections than donating their half-heartedly earned money for some university department. The real question was, what was in it for them?

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure some people were genuinely interested in expanding the art department's budget or equipment, whatever its case was at the moment, but for the most part, socializing was imperative, and looking interested was secondary. I entertained the representatives of the dinner party, musing over the fact that since I was hardly uninterested, nay, immensely disliking this so-called mission, I felt I played it much cooler than I would've if I actually cared. But I didn't care, and by the time I managed to wriggle my way to my designated dinner table, it was already half past six and phonies were bidding their insincere excuses at me as they searched for their own tables.

I looked down into my purse, digging for my cigarettes and bracing myself for a horrible trip back outside where I could smoke a cigarette in obscurity. Maybe I could sneak out while the opening speaker rambled on. Fuck being rude, I was beyond irritated already.

The drinks were served while the uni reps droned on with their thank you's and dull explanations that would eventually lead into a plea for the almighty dollar. I took a quick sip of my beer in a glass and high-tailed it out of the ballroom. Parties and dinner parties in behalf of Yale? Sure, why not.

The sun had gone down by now as I approached the foyer and all its floor-to-ceiling windows. And I'd yet to spot Anita anywhere.

I made my way outside quickly and almost wished that I could find some reassurance in the supposed fact that I was being watched. Was this so important? Lin did mention that this would put them all into the spotlight. Was that such a good thing? I furrowed my brows in contemplation as I stood off to the side of the entrance, watching my smoke curl and fade into the parking lot breeze. I couldn't imagine Jann being so dumb as to try and assassinate a Camarillan – whatever significant role she played, I wasn't sure, but it seemed like a dumb and crude move to me. Kidnap her? Using a human, nonetheless? Perhaps that were her weakness, but how would I know? I touched the scabs on my neck. They hadn't fully healed, but the marks were much smaller. In a day or two, there would be nothing left to show for Shand's atrocious behavior, save a negligible scar that could be dismissed with a glance.

Like this, I puffed away in silence, ignoring the latecomers that were more interesting in trying not to be late. Fortunately, these stragglers ignored me.

As luck would have it, a big white Cadillac SUV pulled up suddenly, tires on the verge of squealing. And the moment she stepped out of the driver's seat, I could tell she was to be the object of my attention for tonight. Not that I was getting paid for it, but in a way, with the beer getting through my empty stomach to my head, my apprehension assured my rent. Or a probable decomposition in the woods, if I failed to woo her tonight.

She was tall, undeniably feminine and pristine, and stunning, as even the valet had a hard time taking his eyes off her perfectly formed and curvy figure. Naturally endowed in the chest, narrow in the middle, and sculpted on the bottom. So this was a full-blown Toreador? Now the superficiality made sense. I inhaled on my cigarette and watched her command the valet of her orders for her vehicle, then stalk around her truck in her four inch stilettos and thigh-high skirt, black duster acting as a coverup over her sensuous curves and long legs.

I looked away quickly, reviewing the tasks for tonight. A, make sure she notices my scabs. B, make sure I have her undivided attention. C, bear in mind at all times her abilities, namely this presence and auspex thing. D, walls up at all times. E, be deviant enough to convince her to want to be alone with me. Easy with the words, but not so easy on the execution. This I realized now. This could end in disaster. She was approaching the entrance, her eyes swiftly scanning the surroundings. They were sweeping this way.

Fortunately, I'd turned my face away in time. And in such a way that my neck openly advertised the scabs on my throat. Somewhere near my jugular, as far as I could recall. I'd intentionally lowered the scarf around my neck for the crisp evening air.

It caught the attention of Anita.

And it was exactly then that I realized how truly attentive a Toreador was.

It wasn't a comforting thought.

"Now what have we here?"

I quickly looked up at her, hoping my surprise came off as more curious than alarmed. "You are?"

"I am Anita, and you are..?"

"Charlene," I said flatly, noting that she had yet to give a friendly smile. Or stray from anything other than an unreadable expression. So if she gave no response, then I would return the favor. Wall. Don't forget the wall. Hopefully, it was working.

"Charlene," she repeated, then looked at me up and down. "Who fancied you? And no need to play a fool, I know precisely what I'm looking at."

Then let the games begin. I took a languid drag from my cigarette before deigning to answer her. Truth was, it was giving me time to form my words in just the right way. "Some scumbag I met the other night. I suppose I ought to know what you're looking at?"

Her eyes deadened more, if such a thing were possible. "This is precisely what I'm talking about. Entertain me. Names? Faces?"

"Hm," I contemplated the overhand above us. "I think he said his name was Frank. A real creep. And there's something definitely wrong with his head. A little touched, if you know what I mean." Boy was she good at hiding her emotions. Actress.

"I'm no fool, unlike you, Charlene. How long have you been seeing him?"

"You want to play that way?" I raised an eyebrow, studying her lack of a reaction.

"I do," she pursed her lips, tilting her head, a small sparkle glistening in her green eyes. "Let's play."

"Fine. A couple of weeks, I don't really remember. He... well, I take it you know what he was. Yes, I know he's dead. But I don't know who did it. I drove by his place after he didn't return my calls and so I—"

"What number did you call?"

I left my mind blank. Two could tango. I rolled off Brooke's Connecticut cell phone number. And I saw the smallest flash of anger and suspicion shimmer across her eyes. Good. Let's make her assume he had a secret cell phone. So much for his being her loyal minion.

She nodded. "Go on."

I shrugged. "Nothing else to go on about. That was that. And yes, he's the one that bit me. It's finally going away."

She licked her lips and gazed steadily at me for a few uncomfortable seconds. And then her stoicism disintegrated into the vixen that she was. She smiled, glancing at my cigarette. "That's well. I knew Frank, forgive me for being so curious. He was horribly murdered, though the police reports say his COD was smoke suffocation. I know more, but I'll leave it at that. I would not disturb our evening with tragic but irreversible matters."

This sudden change of attitude was disturbing. And it made me most wary. I imagined myself hedged inside an igloo made of boulders to protect myself from her threatening demeanor. "It's fine, I'm over it. Like I said, he was a weirdo. Creeped me out."

"As he should. Almost done with your cigarette? I would have you take my arm when we go inside. You _are_ here for the fundraiser?"

Strange request, but as an afterthought, a good sign. "Is there something else happening here tonight?"

She smiled at me again. How many had fallen for those lips? I looked away, physically having to pull my eyes to focus on something else. It wasn't polite to stare.

I took one last drag and tossed my smoke to the curb.

She watched the butt spark on the asphalt before looking back at me, her elbow already raised for me.

What sort of statement was this?

"I sense hesitation, Charlene," she exclaimed, frowning. "You've been hurt before, and now you're curious. Come with me."

I held her gaze. Hurt by who, how would she know? I kept my voice down inside my head and slipped my hand into the crook of her elbow. What was it with vamps wanting to lead humans around by their elbows?

She strode smoothly into the foyer, and surprisingly, I kept pace with her. She didn't turn her head as she said, "You will be at my table, hm?"

How could she know? Was this a bluff, or did she really know? Had she done some research? Of course she had to have, it'd be precarious not to be cautious. But most importantly, I couldn't let on that I knew her from the lady next door. "Am I? I'm at table sixteen, are you?"

"Of course."

She was greeted by everyone that passed. And I was mortified. Fortunately, everyone was too enthralled by her appearance to take much notice of me, this peon that was attached to her arm. But I felt the glances, the curiosity of being her companion, maybe even some pity, but that last part could have just been in my head. We entered the ballroom where they were still quite actively droning on about accolades and aspirations.

More acknowledgements by the dinner guests before we finally sat down at our table. Then the obligatory hushed table greetings.

How I loathed these sorts of affairs. They were truly as droll and showy as portrayed by Hollywood. I sipped on my wine and listened with half a mind. It was all about money. And on the other hand, it bothered me the amount of people that knew her around here. Acquaintances meant observers, and observers meant witnesses. Anita was some figure on the Yale board for the arts department, and her acquisition would be highly investigated. This I had no doubt. Too many admirers.

What a dumb idea by these Anarchists to try and snuff such a prominent figure.

Applause. It jolted me out of my musing and I clapped along with everyone for a good thirty seconds. How dumb. I glanced at Anita and stiffened on the spot when I saw she clapped, but stared at me.

The clapping faded away, and she leaned forward as the speaker began the obligatory 'let's get the party started' epilogue. "What were you thinking about? You seem to be working something out in your head all this time."

Could she read my mind? Or was it strictly her observation? Her face hardly a foot away from mine, I could get lost in those green orbs that kept their attention on me. I had to kick myself into auditory focus and comprehension so I could respond. "I'm trying to grasp your significance in... that realm."

"Are you now?" She smiled, applauding with the rest of the room. "I do believe we need to become better acquainted."


	11. Sunday, Early Evening

"It is the world of darkness, my dear," she murmured, leaning forward into her wine glass. I noted that she only feigned to sip from it, though she made a show of swirling it around. She was a professional, no doubt. "A world that promises the most deepest of your heart's desires. But it is a dangerous world, abundant with people of every background and sort. I gather you're familiar with some terminology, some clans, some figures of prominence?"

I nodded, musing upon the fact that she had the daring to discuss this in public. But what did I know?

"Had Frank told you about me?"

I shook my head, nursing my wine in small sips. I had no intention of becoming inebriated this evening; I couldn't sacrifice my better judgment for a momentary lapse of carnal pleasure.

"No matter, it doesn't matter now. He wasn't permitted to anyway. I am his master, and one of a few who I've taken under my wing. I nurse them from their emotional instability, and when ready, I introduce them to this world of infinite possibilities. Would you wish for attaining anything your heart desires?"

Was that a direct question? I shook my head, unsure of the proper response. So I chose to be natural. "My desires are simple, and I daresay I'm quite content with myself."

"You think this for now," she nodded, smirking.

I had to keep looking away from her. It was a spell she was weaving, a fatal trap, and I couldn't fall for it. I had to be in control, not her. "Amuse me then."

"That's your role. Now let me share with you my sorrows." She put her hand on mine, and it took considerable strength not to automatically withdraw my hand from hers. I couldn't let her think I was unresponsive to her touch. There wasn't enough time to play hard to get. This had to happen tonight. "As you know, I'm a rather divulging character, a whimsical and sensual creature of the evenings. I need my theatre, and I need it in just the way I please. Mac, our locale's prince, insists I need to restrain my ambitions, but I beg to differ. You see, there are so many of you, and only one of me. Do you know what it is to be worshipped?"

After a moment for drama's sake, I shook my head. This was certainly one of the most arrogant displays I'd ever been a part of. And I'm supposed to know what she's talking about?

"You would know, should I take you under my wing. But, you're reticent, so I won't divulge. When you do, I will show you."

The opportunity. "Why couldn't you show me now?"

"I cannot. It's against my rules. If you're unsure, then I would not force you. There is no negativity to this existence. You indulge, you win, you live in bliss. It's a wonder we are so obscure. Do consider yourself honored to have my attention. For I wonder what my eccentric Frank saw in you. It is a rare occurrence for him to take an interest in such a... unadorned image like yourself. I mean no offense. I can make you beautiful, you should know."

I never in my life imagined myself as unbeautiful. So why should I be offended? "I wasn't aware of any major flaws in myself."

"There are some rather misshapen features of you, and—"

The waiters came around to take their orders for dinner. Obviously, I hadn't even had the time to glance at the choices, so I quickly read aloud the first item on the paper in front of me. Did she say misshapen? I could hardly contain my amusement.

Anita continued without breaking stride. "You are plain, Charlene. You have potential, and I see the beauty in you, but to others, you are rather ordinary. I would make you stand out like me. Or I would grant you other abilities you would so desire. Anything you want."

"You're offering?" Was it this easy? She had to be full of shit, or she was weaker than she let on. I wasn't even deifying her, and she was offering this. Amazing.

She leaned forward, her eyes entrancing me into a daze. "I was curious as to what Frank saw in you. But now I understand. The first time he tasted you, you changed. This is what kept him fascinated, I understand it all now. Us Toreadors are rather the most observant of the clans. Are you aware?"

"I am beginning to be," I agreed. Indeed, I'd had inklings before, but I was more interested in her parallel observation like Gabriel's. And damn her sultry eyes. Play up the carnal plotting. Time to dig a little deeper into the pit I was standing at the precipice of. A positive response would render my homoerotic imagination at her mercy. "I am intrigued – for the moment."

"Ah," she tilted her head, smirking at me before leaning close to me. I could smell her light perfume and nearly feel the breath from her lips. "We can arrange such an awareness for your benefit. Would you like me to arrange something?"

This was it. "I don't know what you see in me, but..." Hard to get? I'd say just go for it. "It piques me, yes."

She pulled away from me, her face turned into a cocky smile. "Done. Now I express myself before we make an agreement."

And it was at this moment that the guests to this fundraiser decided to share their expressions with her, and for a relieving fifteen minutes, I was able to gather my thoughts as she skillfully entertained our table's fellow occupants. She'd mentioned a Mac. Where had I heard that name before? But I couldn't place it. Was she seriously engrossed with me? Did she really see the peculiar abilities I'd somehow managed to retain? I picked at the crust on my bread. How much did she notice? And the way everyone fawned over her, adoring her, ogling her as she slipped off her cardigan and hung it on the back of the seat, blatantly flaunting the swell of her chest, and I noted that not even the women or girlfriends or wives looked at her without a sort of desire. And here I sat beside her, silent and not really hearing her titter on dramatically to whoever worked up enough courage to request her thoughts.

Only when the dinners began to be served did the sycophants withdraw back to their shallow stomachs and their miserable existence. And she turned her attention back to me.

"So as I was saying," she said smoothly, smiling easily at me. "Have you any thoughts?"

What was the insinuation? I went with my instincts, though they weren't always so trustworthy. "Only admiring you."

She huffed, rolling her eyes but settling her gaze back on me, smirking. "And Goen – he's the Boston prince – who really shouldn't be sticking his nose in any sort of business around here, that's Mac's job, has just recently left me a message. 'Take care,' was all it said. That Crenshaw gave it to me, to be precise; Goen will never show his face to anyone. That's about all he knows, take it from me. Hiding from everyone he insults. Which is everyone he knows. How he ever became Prince is beyond me. Too many Gangrels, it's most obvious that he's intentionally surrounded himself with them. Thinks it makes him invincible. That Ventrue has something else coming for him. It's time we showed him. Don't you think?" But she didn't wait for a response. As mentioned, she seemed only to wish to vent. The dishes of food began to be served, but she ignored the entire procedure. "But what do you know, this is our world. I tell you though," she leaned toward me, and I couldn't resist a glance at the depths of her cleavage in the dinner light. They were natural. Had to be some million dollar push-up bra holding them just so. She continued, and I knew she was fully aware of exactly what she was doing. "Veronica, my young acolyte, not yet fully turned, well she has been doing the work for me. It's such a pleasure to see them make such a difference. With them, I would be incomplete. Hm?" She raised an eyebrow, two seconds passing before I realized she wanted a response.

"What kind of difference?"

"Oh," she reached forward, putting her hand over mine again, except this time, my hand was on my lap. With her hand so close, I jittered inside but hid it well. "You cannot be so naïve? I wouldn't expect such incompetence from my Frank. Don't mock me."

Of course I knew exactly what she meant. So she didn't like games, did she? Then I would throw something back at her. "I want to be somewhere else with you."

It had to have caught her off guard. But if it did, she didn't show it. "Patience," she curled her cool fingers around my own, but I kept myself stiff. "I have already made my decision, my love, but the lessons begin here. You do know you have no choice?"

Was she insane? How had she come to such a conclusion? Or an assumption, for that matter. "I'm at your mercy."

"That's more like it," she squeezed my hand, but kept it there. "You are certainly chomping at the bit. Save your enthusiasm for later, you'll need it. I'm not done here. That Goen, I have a plan for him. I think it's rather clever, actually. As you know, Anarchs abound in this area. I gather the location is convenient, as they don't do well in larger cities like New York and Boston. But no matter. I have mastered the art of manipulation, my pretty Charlene, and these bloodthirsty imbeciles will play right into my designs. I've heard of a certain group that is led by an ex-Camarilla individual. A Tremere, in fact."

I consciously kept my blood flowing normally, focusing instead on the smooth cool hand that held mine. Why weren't they getting warmer with my body heat? Her iciness was making me feel cold. And at that moment, her entrée was served. She scooted her chair aside closer to me to avoid the incoming plate from behind. She nodded, the waiter blushed, and proceeded with his work. Was I going to eat my dinner? Or was I going to sit here listening to her babbling? I didn't feel like eating.

"An ex-Camarilla, and a Tremere at that. What do you think?" She released her grip and instead transferred her firm hold to my inner thigh, pulling at my skirt.

I looked at her, repressing the heat that ran up my leg. The waiter set down my dinner plate and I turned awkwardly to acknowledge him. Fortunately, her hand on my leg was behind the curtain of the tablecloth. They wouldn't know why I was starting to sweat. There was no doubt I could guess who she was referring to. "I... think it's interesting." And I pulled at the only thing that would come to me. "Do you think he's really an ex-Camarilla?"

She sniffed, glancing away for a moment before refocusing her green eyes on me. "Tremere's are only loyal to their own. Clan first, Camarilla second. Maybe you don't know that. I think the Tremeres are up to something. Something sinister. And I bet you a million dollars that he's working for Mac. It only makes sense. Mac uses him to keep order around here, keep us all in line. If the sheriffs can't do his dirty work for him, then the Anarchs will. And this Tremere, this fellow that calls himself Jann? Well," she smiled into the distance, her hand massaging and working its way up toward the heat of my nether. "I have something special for him."

If she touched me, I would be done for.

She looked straight at me and gave a dazzling a smile. "Do you know I've mastered one of his cronies?" And the tip of her hand moved ever closer to where they didn't belong.

I couldn't disguise the jolt of pleasure that quaked upwards into my stomach. In hindsight, this spared me from any slipup. I could feign pleasure and spare revealing any revelations. I caught myself in time from asking her to clarify. "Is that so? You're quite crafty."

She snickered knowingly, her fingers brushing against me. "It's a talent of mine. I'm taking one of his, my way; I create history. Then we'll see him burn. And it will fall back to Goen."

"How... how would that work?" My momentary curiosity temporarily distracted me from her inquiring hand.

"Tremere are heartless and soulless, but they cannot stand being made the better of. He will come after me, and then I will expose his Anarch trail to Goen. I will give the Gangrels a death sentence they won't forget."

"But... you can't destroy your fellow kind?"

She laughed. "Oh no, I don't mean it that way, how would I have anything to do with all of this? Especially for something and someone so inane? You see, I have it planned. Smoke and mirrors, the Anarchs will collapse from the inside, and I'll get my way," she stopped her finger and lightly pressed precisely at the forbidden entrance. I froze, reigning in my staggering heart. "Wouldn't you agree?"

I had to control myself. I had to see her for the manipulative and devious thing that she was. I couldn't help but shiver at first, though. Hopefully, that would allude her. "You'll kill them?"

"Of course," she scoffed, withdrawing her hand and squeezing my thigh. "What are they but tools? They give, but they'll never get from us. It's not theirs to take. But Goen, now there's a prize. I will never leave his memory, that is certain."

"You knew him once?" And I meant that in more ways than one. Seemed she caught my drift.

She tittered. "Knew him? Maybe. But he never knew me, could never know me. I wouldn't not be here if he did. There are things you ought never say to a lady. But I speak of times far past. I will destroy Goen. These Anarchs will never know what hit them. I do find it all rather entertaining, don't you think?"

I nodded, looking at the plate of food before me. Thankfully, she left her hand stationary for the time being. My thoughts raced in the meantime. "I'm surprised you found a mole so quickly."

She tsked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Here's your first lesson: Anarchs are stupid. They're needy and whiny, and easy to use. They always have some problem or other, and all you need to do is find that, and you're golden. Nothing to it. Created as tools, and they'll die as tools. Useful, in the grand scheme of things."

But once humans nonetheless, I said to myself. I'd never met anyone so calloused or arrogant in my life. "As in, the Camarilla pulls all the strings, even those of the Anarchs?"

She winked at me. "Now you're beginning to see. What sort of role would you like to have in this game?"

My dreams and goals are my own, thank you very much. Truthfully, though, I had none. "I like to be discreet. I don't like attention. I like to be alone."

"And you want everyone to leave you alone?" She smiled, tilting her head. "I can arrange a situation like that for you. Would you like that?"

Get her alone, get her alone! This particular game was getting dirty and weird, and I wanted it over with quickly. Her hand was still making small circles on my inner thigh and it took nearly all my brainpower not to let myself focus on her touch. "What do I have to do?"

"This is the beautiful part," she leaned forward.

How no one else was paying attention to our little intimate conversation as beyond me. Or was it part of her powers?

"Quite simple, actually," she continued, pulling my leg toward her. The more I let her open my legs apart, the more violated I felt. How she thought she could manipulate me in such a shallow way was insulting enough. Did I really have to let her? "I will let you live your life, but you must grow yourself under me. You won't have to go anywhere, but you will have to sever your relationships. There is no such thing as love. You must accept that immediately and without fail. Once I have found no love in you, then I will show you devotion. My devotion. Our devotion. No one has more loyalty and wisdom as we do. Do you swear your life to me?"

"That's such a tall order," I frowned, more so aghast at her blatant explanation, as well as the blatant hubris that saturated her statements. "I can see what I'm losing, but I don't know what I'm gaining."

"You gain a true life," she smiled, alluring and batting her eyelashes. "But most of all, you can have me. All of me."

"I can't have you now?" I let her caress my inner thigh, starting to feel numb and physically aloof. This bitch was sick. Just like myself, she had to be playing a game. There was no way she was legitimately serious with her offers, just as I was not with mine.

"Oh, you shall have appetizers, I'm not so selfish like that, but the true pleasure comes with the entrée. And more. Are you understanding me?"

I nodded, reaching a hand underneath the tablecloth and touching her hand. Our eyes never left each other's gaze until after nearly a minute, she clutched my hand.

"Do you swear?"

Don't forget to put up the walls. Picture the wall, so that I could freely contemplate how hopefully meaningless her promises were. "I swear," I said, not taking my eyes off of her. My heart thudded in my chest, anticipating the unknown. How far would this go? I didn't want it to go anywhere at all, I felt reviled enough already even letting her touch me this way. My mind told me she would be unlike anything I'd ever experienced, that she'd blow away anyone who I'd had before and whoever came after her, but another part reminded me that there was absolutely no substance to her. In fact, it could all be lies, a trap to incarcerate or, most possibly, kill me. I did 'snuff' one of her little whipping boys, to borrow their colloquialism. I knew she knew.

"Then let us go." She smiled, pulled her hand away and gracefully stood up, backing away from the table.

I watched her movements as she reached behind herself to retrieve her slinky shawl. I could see her nipples poking through the silky material cinched over her chest. It wasn't for me, I reminded myself. She did this for everyone. She got off on doting slaves. But I couldn't mind the fact that the bumps were large, smoothly erect from underneath the folds of her dress.

And I noted that no one at the table looked up at her. I looked back up at her, watching her wrap the shawl around her bare cleavage, and she raised an eyebrow at me. "Get up," she ordered.

I inhaled sharply, glancing again the table's occupants before scooching my chair back and standing up as well. I spent a few seconds giving my appetizing rack of lamb a longing and wishful glance before looking into those green eyes of hypnosis.

I resisted, and instead, followed her as studiously as possible out of the ballroom. I couldn't know if there were other vampires in here, but I reassured myself that the vampires that mattered, as in, Jann's clan, were watching my exit stage right and gearing themselves up for whatever reprehensible act they were planning.


	12. Sunday, Mid-Evening

Back to the foyer. Down the other hall beside the large glass doors and there, a wide and grand stairwell that led upstairs to another wide and well-lit hallway. She didn't say a single word to me, and I none to her. Because in my mind, I tried to reinforce every single conscious and mental block I could come up with to ignore her advances. I could not mentally give in to her. Not even from a kiss, if that's what her definition of an appetizer was. I wouldn't give her one single iota of satisfaction.

There was a couple by the nearest door, the man fumbling through his wallet while the lady leaned casually on the wall beside him, giving us a leering stare as we walked past.

Don't look at me, I grumbled to myself. Can't tell me you've never found your fellow sex attractive, especially someone so attractive as this one? What was it with magnetism for conceited assholes? It was half the reason why I hated most everybody I met.

She stopped at a door halfway down the hall and took out a card from her hand purse. She turned to look at me, and I returned a cool and aloof look in return. Whatever happened was purely out of curiosity. I would prefer nothing ever occur at all, but should something happen, it would merely be part of the job. With this megalomaniac, it was a matter of life or death. She spoke many lies, but I didn't doubt her threats as absolute truth. I nodded to her, and she nodded back.

I entered the room behind her, amazed at the modernity of it, all the flat ninety-degree angles, the glass, the matte colors, the brightness of the LED lighting, the streamlined design of the layout. A bar to the side, a small lowered seating area facing it, then a long statue of an abstract woman smartly divided the main area to the modern four-post bed behind the half-wall of plants and sculpture. The lights glowed from the baseboard, water trickled down a design from the side wall into the floor in the center of the seating area.

So chic. Was this all included?

The far wall beyond the bed was made entirely of glass. A window. There was a balcony behind it. Would that be where Gabriel and the others would enter? Did I have to unlock the door? For a morbid group, they actually sort of made me feel safer. Maybe only because they pretended to be on my side.

I turned around to look at Anita. Her hand was on a flat panel, her fingers tapping against a knob. She looked at me knowingly, taking her free hand and twisting it through her shawl. She pulled it off dramatically and tossed the shawl to the nearby armchair. And she lowered the lights, dark enough that I could hardly see the bed beyond the glow of the LED strips along the bottom of the wall. On the one hand, I didn't like the dimness. But on the other hand, perhaps it would give the others an advantage. But couldn't they see in the dark or something supernatural like that?

Where were they, anyway?

"Charlene Fischer, I do believe we need to discuss some sensitive matters."

My heart palpitated into my throat and I watched her gesture toward the sofa.

"Do sit," she smiled, "I promise I won't bite. That would simply be bad-mannered of me."

I eyed her for a moment before I took a few steps and sat down on the black sofa. I turned and watch her walk around behind my sofa, her hand trailing along my shoulders.

"So, truly, what brings you here?"

I didn't like the direction of this conversation. "I've heard of you." That was semi-true, after all. "And I was curious as to how powerful you really are."

" 'Powerful?' " She scoffed, quickly rounding my sofa and sliding onto the cushion beside me. I ignored her figure and focused instead on her facial expression. It was vain, her eyebrows raised in haughtiness. "Did Frank tell you such things?" She cooed, reaching her arm on the back of the sofa and leaning toward me, smiling. "What else has he told you?"

"It's only hearsay, I like to judge things myself," I replied quickly. Wall. Could she read my thoughts? Could she sense my bluffing? And where the fuck was this crew that put me in this position?

"Much too early," she shook her head. "You are too soft. When you are cool and possess self-control, then I would allow you to judge more than just me," she circled her face with her finger.

How utterly and abhorrently vain.

"But you love, and that I will dissuade you. Love makes you weak, love makes you foolish, love makes you impulsive, and love is dead. Completely unreliable. And, consequently, you are currently too soft to be of any use. I would teach you how to gain the highest willpower to become as powerful as myself."

Had to all be a crock of shit. As herself? No egomaniac would want anyone else to be as powerful as themselves. This bitch really thought I'd believe her? And love made one soft? I actually sort of agreed with her. But love could also be the greatest fuel to create the largest fire of the ages. But I had to nod and look interested. It wasn't easy, but I think I pulled it off, since she went on, looking pleased with herself. Don't forget the walls. And where the hell were they?

"You seem concerned. Please, I wouldn't wish to have you return to human society, never to remember us again. I can sense your emotions, am I not what you wish for? I can give you all that you desire."

And a thought entered my mind, since she seemed so acquiescing. "I'd like to know more about the Tremere." I felt so horribly corny when I said it, but she hardly flinched. Perhaps she couldn't feel all emotions, let alone read thoughts. But, then again, why would she let on about her own true thoughts? Was there even a single true thought in her mind?

She made a face and shook her head. "Absolutely not. You do not understand the calling of a Tremere. She must shun every thing, every single thing, and wholly convert to their rituals and myth, share all your blood amongst them. And the only interaction you would get outside of your little safehold, oftentimes a massive shithole, would be when you were to force someone into the clan. And you'd spend your whole existence spying on everybody and everything. Paranoid freaks. No. They're sick, and definitely not for you. Tell me what you really want."

Truthfully? I wanted those guys to jump in right now and end this idiotic conversation. But as I sat there looking thoughtful, and not a single molecule in the room moved out of place, I decided to just go all out and stupid. Perhaps they were eavesdropping. Perhaps they weren't even here. Wouldn't that be a riot. Might as well try to be intelligent about this situation. "I need to know more about your kind before I make any decisions."

"Fine then," she crossed her arms, accentuating her features, but I ignored them. Now that I was alone with her, everything felt dangerous and abnormal. And her appearances weren't playing any tricks on me for the moment. "Where are you located?"

It was rehearsed, and it was all I could come up with. I recited off the address of the late Brooke.

"Do you go to Yale, then?"

"Planning to, I'm getting settled in first."

"Your interests?"

Interesting question. Was I being interviewed, now? "I... like to read."

"A voracious reader?"

I nodded, not having to fake my mild confusion.

"Do you have any talents?"

If being cynical was commendable, I would have said so. Instead, I shook my head, shrugging midway.

"Shame," she sniffed, looking away. "Book reader, I'm trying to find a place for you. Are you at all shrewd?"

"I'd like to think so."

"Lack of confidence, noted," she muttered, but loud enough for me to hear. She shook her head. "Change of subject. Why did Frank choose you of all people?"

"Maybe because I was alone?" I couldn't help myself, but she masked any hint of her emotions about my statement. I went on. "He was quirky, I don't know." Shouldn't say more than I actually know. Any discrepancy would undoubtedly be caught by her. She was a vampire, after all.

"You did not find him attractive?"

"I'm new up here. I don't really know many people."

"Are you searching for another companion?"

"Like Frank? Sure, but not so weird."

"Explain. How was he weird?"

Peculiar question. Where were these friggin' guys? I could feel myself getting cornered with every passing second. "He liked to drink from other people in front of me. It was... offensive. And his little apprentice Green, he was not nice." Drop enough facts to make it realistic, but enough to cover only vagaries.

"Yes, his little minion. Do you know what happened to him?"

"I assume he died? I don't know?" Play stupid, is all.

She leaned forward, her eyes wild. "He was kidnapped. This fire was a setup by this little group I told you about earlier. Led by that phony Anarch, that so-called ex-Tremere. He set up that fire. He knows about me, that's why he's killing all my acolytes. You have to be most vigilant from this day forth, unless you choose not be on my side. Then you just might find yourself without a head. Or at the bottom of the Atlantic. That's what his little cronies like to do to my people. Take them out to sea and throw them overboard. Morbid Anarchs, they are."

Well with these insults, the guys had to be making their jump soon. But I nodded, partially feigning a wide-eyed and slightly incredulous audience. "How do you know it was a setup?"

"I just said so!" She scowled, straightening her back. "Do not question me!"

"I'm sorry, I mean, how did you trace it back to him?"

"As I said earlier, he's working for Mac. And Mac works for Goen. Goen thinks he's smart, but when he finds out –"

Coincidentally, this was the moment they chose to strike. I don't know where they came from. But I do know that they came from all sides. Will and Saul from the side, Alec leaping from behind me, and Bengal from behind Anita. I didn't even see her move a muscle, but suddenly she'd disappeared from her seat and had knocked Bengal backwards –in his clutches. They must have anticipated her reactions. It was like she blew herself backwards.

Amazing. This was celerity? I could hardly blink before they were scrambling all over her. Regular vamps, Caitiff, or whatever they called themselves, could still move at a higher speed than the fastest human. Intriguing. But this violent aspect of limited immortality was hardly worth the trade.

I stood up, watching them scuffle, a blur of masses, and then a sudden stop, as if a blurry image coming into focus. There was Alec on the floor holding her in a chokehold. But it wasn't a chokehold, it was a knife at her throat. Now I could see it glinting in the dim LED lights. No choke holds, of course. Vampires didn't need to breathe. Bengal was picking himself up, and dragging Anita and Alec up with him. The grimace on Alec's face was disturbing. His blue eyes were nearly white, even in the dimness. Will and Saul clung to her as a brace.

Anita said nothing, glaring at Bengal.

"You thought you would succeed, but," Bengal brushed off his arm sleeves. "You can't win. Keep trying. Oh, wait, you can't. Say good night to your uppity bullshit balls and crusades. Jann wants to have a little talk with you."

Her nostrils flared, a strange concept without oxygen to inhale. "Get this fucking blade off of me."

"Not on your life," Bengal scoffed. "Draw some blood, Alec."

"With pleasure," Alec grinned, and I daresay he enjoyed the torture. I knew why I didn't like him. He did press the knife down just then, right on her jugular, and a small trickle of blood began down her pale throat.

She made no response but remained glaring at Bengal.

Her pride was beyond humiliated. Probably raging. I guess she was no match for four against one.

And Alec took his free hand, eyeing the blood trail and smeared the dark red liquid onto his finger. A small droplet fell on her chest. Alec leaned forward, temple to temple with the woman, watching his finger as he moved it closer to and then across Anita's lips. "Aren't you pretty, love?" He purred in her ear. This time, she grimaced, refusing to open her mouth. Alec returned his finger to the gash on her throat, wiped again, and this time, shoved his finger into the side of her mouth.

She repulsively gnashed her teeth and turned her head.

"Now guilty of diablerie," Alec snickered, baring his teeth into her ear. "Where is redemption for you, demented rose of the Devil's bastion? Forever stained in black," and he laughed loudly.

She struggled against her imprisoners for a moment, but gave up quickly.

"Don't try your presence on us, Hyde," Bengal growled, grabbing her arm and pulling toward the bed area. "Won't work. Let's go."

The three restraining her moved forward, though Alec continued his mocking reveries to her.

I watched them pass by me, Bengal stepping up to the raised dais where the bed sat. He slid the curtains aside from the sliding doors and studied their prisoner.

She went through the doors onto the balcony, and for a moment, it was only Bengal and I in the room. I stared after them, feeling numb.

"Lin's outside. Get your ass back to the house."

I scowled before I could even consider that they deserved a thanks for saving me from a nearly inevitable demise.

As I slowly made my way downstairs, I pondered the moment of conversation where she'd been cut off by my saviors. There had to be a reason for it. What was Goen going to find? What exactly did Mac or Goen, both Cammies as far as I could tell, have to do with Jann? She claimed he was in cahoots with a Camarillan? But that would be treachery of the worst kind, Camarilla versus Camarilla? Who were these people, anyway? I just knew her stories were wrong. Wrong in the sense of morality and honor.

I skipped the ballroom altogether, went back to the foyer, then back through the rotating doors into the cool night. There was Lin in her little red coupe. I got in, ignoring her concerned accolades, and looked at the clock instead. It was nearly nine. Had time really passed that quickly? It felt like only half an hour.

Right, she was asking me how the night went, that she was glad to see me so early. "They got her, so it was a good night, I guess."

"You guess?" She wasn't being sarcastic, either.

I clicked my seatbelt a second after she drove off. "What's the rush? They have her, aren't we done for the weekend now?"

"Not quite, it'll finish off in a bang. It always does," she winked at me, making the U-turn as legally and reasonably as possible. "The night's only getting started! Just think about it, it's... like, only nine in the morning right now! There's way more that has to be done."

"To Anita, you mean? Like what, I'm curious." I really was. I didn't like her, didn't care at all for her conceited character, but I was still wondering what the hell they had intended for her. The same fate as Green? Well, it couldn't nearly be the same, because she didn't exactly seem starving just yet. But by six a.m., who knows. I didn't know how fast their metabolism could be. "What are they going to do to her?" She glanced at me, zooming down the empty driveway to the four-way light before stomping on the brakes.

"I'm not totally sure, actually. If they kill her, then they're sort of signing their death warrant. So I don't know what they'll do with her."

"Death warrant for killing a vampire?"

"It's sacrilege, yes. Somehow, they always know. The sheriffs with all their underlings will come from miles around just to arrest and destroy Jann. After they prove it was him, first, of course. They aren't so unreasonable, the Cammies. But they'll kill nonetheless... for less. But the murder of a Cammie? That's unthinkable. Unless they want her dead. Either way, I guess it doesn't matter. They'll get their way, make a martyr or example of somebody, and they still win. It's all about winning, you know."

Her blinker ticked ominously in the silence as we sat waiting for the light to turn green. I glanced over at her, but her mind seemed occupied with whatever was at hand. I processed from her first sentence that killing a Cammie was a crime punishable by death, and basically tuned out the rest of her rambling.

The light turned green, and she made a hasty left turn. A twenty minute ride home. And I had questions. The music was playing softly in the background under the hum of her little two-door. At the first moment she stopped her gibbering on about her deep and conflicted feelings about Alec and Bengal, I changed the subject. "Anita mentioned a Mac and a Goen. I played along like I knew who they were, but now I'm curious: who are they?"

It was blatantly obvious that she was annoyed that I'd made it so obvious that I hadn't been paying attention to her rambling. But she went with it because I'd just appealed to her 'higher knowledge' over me. "Mac is the prince of New Haven. And Goen is the prince of Boston, which makes him more powerful than Mac. Cammie government people. Are you familiar with it yet?"

I shook my head. Feeding her ego was no hard task for me. "Not really. From what Anita was talking about, seems like she thinks that Mac works for Goen, and that, if I'm not mistaken, Jann works for Mac. And wouldn't that make Jann not so much of an ex-Cammie? She said he's an ex-Tremere, but it seems so contradictory."

"Well of course Mac works for Goen, but isn't the other part interesting," Lin seemed very interested now. "If he was still loyal to the Cammies, why would he be fudging up their plans? She was the one going batshit and creating all these ghouls and Caitiffs for her own purposes – of which namely is to seek out us Anarchs. They're constantly trying to infiltrate us, and god forbid we're savvy to it. She's one of the worst perpetrators around here, and believe me when I say we got the golden goose tonight."

So much for Jann and his 'all in a day's work' mantra. Was Anita that important to them? "So what's this nonsense about her hating his guts? I mean, if he were a Cammie plant, she wouldn't care, right?"

Lin shook her head, looking annoyed. "If he were a Cammie plant, she would care, because that would expose _her_ anti-Cammie behavior. She's breaking all their rules by creating childer here and there and everywhere, let alone a bunch of Anarchs. Somebody owes her a big favor, and I'm thinking it's Mac, the local Cammie prince, to let her get away with creating all her little idiot minions. Do you understand? She wouldn't go after somebody who's in it for the Cammies. We kill her brainwashed minions, like Green, she shrugs it off. But we get her, we expose her, then she's royally screwed, and there's no way around that."

Honestly, I could hardly keep up with her logic. Perhaps it was because I didn't know all these so-called rules. One set of rules for Cammies, and one set for the Anarchs? It was too damn confusing. But I nodded in a knowing manner so she wouldn't continue on her confusing speech. "So you've been getting rid of all her minions as of late?"

"For the past year since January, yeah, she doesn't stop."

"How many?"

She tapped the steering wheel for a few seconds until she nodded with a knowing smile. "We've gotten rid of about fourteen, at least one or two every month. We have to track them day and night and take them out. Fortunately, Green gave us the lead on her. We've been tracking her since and took the first opportunity we could to get her."

"So... you guys really are going to kill her?"

She shrugged. "I really don't know. Jann knows better. He's probably going to use her as a bargaining chip. Or maybe he will kill her to make a point that you don't mess with the Anarchs. We get what we want. That's what he should do, but I don't call the shots around here."

"And you're content to be a ghoul?"

She gave me a smirk and winked. "We're indispensable, you ought to know this by now. We trace them and their ghouls by day, and the kindred take care of it at night. They'd be at a total loss without us to maintain appearances and make progress while they sleep. Speaking of which, how are you and Gabriel getting along?"

I furrowed my eyebrows and turned my head to her quickly. "Gabriel, really?"

"Well you two seem to have some sort of rapport going on – even though I still think Jann owns you. Maybe he doesn't want you to be blood bound to him, god knows he's never had a ghoul for as long as we've all known him. Very weird, in my opinion. But you and Gabriel," she smirked again, "he seems to have a spot in his little cold heart for you."

Their insults of him intrigued me. I knew exactly what he was, and that was why I didn't think so lowly of him. He wasn't a phony, you could see right through him. But everyone else seemed to think him a thoroughly revolting liar. "Maybe he feels bad for me because of Brooke. But he's just a vain and arrogant man. He knows you all don't like him, hell, some of the guys insult him right to his face, and he just takes it. If that's not proof of his renouncing the Camarilla, I don't know what is." It was a good point, but Lin ignored it.

"He's too shady. And for the record, he's the one that ignores us most of the time. Only when you came around did he actually show up to meetings and courts. And last night at that club? It's unheard of for him to come out with us! Bengal insisted it was because he's feeling guilty, but I said it's because he's only trying to get you to be his ghoul. Has he come on to you at all? Flirting, maybe something more? I know he's gone to see you privately before," she leaned toward me, a wicked grin on her face.

So that's what it all boiled down to? "You think he's trying to 'steal' me away from Jann? Jann never laid claim to me to begin with." Besides my being his little science experiment. Never a ghoul, though. I'd rather die than be some puppet like Lin. But that was a private thought. "And neither has Gabriel. I think he feels so shunned by everyone else that he sees me as a blank slate. Probably hoping that I won't get jaded by all yous' opinions." To Lin, I liked to say it like it was. Gabriel's friendship with me was out of desperation, trying to defend himself from the small minds like Lin and the others. I was too new to take their side.

"I doubt that. Gabriel doesn't care about anybody but himself. He's a Toreador, and that's what they are: self-serving jerks. If it doesn't benefit them in any way, shape, or form, they have no need for it. He's looking at you to boost him somewhere somehow, and I _will_ figure it out."

If she wanted to boil it down to brass tacks, then so be it. "It couldn't just possibly be for his ego?"

"That's too simple," was all she said, and the hum of her car again pervaded the silence.

My thoughts and memories began to flood my mind and I blurted out the second name that had passed through my mind more than just at the moment. "Who is that Una you were talking about with him the other night?"

"Oh, she's only one of the most important members of the Anarch as a whole state. She's from the homeland, San Fran over there. She's like, the marshal of the Anarchs. There's a problem somewhere, and she shows up, and it's fixed – and nobody knows how. But she gets things done, and it's usually efficient and deadly. She's a wizard, colloquially speaking, that one."

"So why is she coming here then? Is there a problem?"

"Well," she leaned toward me and spoke a little lower. I suppose that meant that this was a secret. "As far as I know, she's making her East Coast rounds, but Jann specifically called her in to get her to clean up this ghoul mess from Anita. That's why I say that Anita's a bargaining chip. Something big is going to happen really soon, I can feel it. And I'm pretty sure it's not going to be pretty if Una's involved."

"When is she showing up?"

"Anytime this coming week, believe it or not. All she needs is a late night flight. She's tough, she can handle it."

"But the hour change, the time zones, how..?"

"You ever notice how Jann is up before everyone else? Same thing. Una's been around for a long time. At least half a century old – like Jann. Some kindred are able to handle the first and last of the sunrays better than others. Get on an early enough flight and you'll make it just before dawn. At the right time of year, of course. It's getting to be that time." And then she continued to ramble on about her quick calculations with time zones and flights and traveling in luggage and the stories she'd heard of traveling kindred and the dangers of going abroad and... we were pulling up to the manse. That ride back home went by quickly. Or was it just due to the lighter traffic at ten thirty?

The night was only getting started.


	13. Sunday, Late Evening

They'd arrived back at the manse with Anita before we got there. Bengal must have been ahead of us all this time, and I could've sworn that Lin was a bit heavy on the pedal on the way here. But what did it matter? Lin told me that I wasn't invited to their 'party' anyway. Not that I wanted to observe. As soon as we pulled up to the garage and she let us in through the back door, she bid me adieu to find out what information she could. Apparently, Donna and Sarah were here, too. Everyone was.

I shrugged, watching her walk briskly down the hallway, tapping away at her phone. I lit up my cigarette (she hadn't let me smoke in the car, and I was fiending badly enough not to give two shits about anything else at that moment) and took my time to make my way into the kitchen. Where were the drinks around here, anyway? I could go for a good hard one right about now. But then I had to remind myself that while it was the standard drinking time for the average human, I on the other hand, had only gotten up six hours ago. This was my noon. A vodka and cranberry at noon?

Well, I deserved a vice every once in a long while. So I went rummaging around to no avail. There was some orange juice in the frig, but no straight 80 proof around to speak of. Perhaps they hid it elsewhere? Now I was getting the itch for it, and at this hour, no place would give me a bottle. Not that I could go anywhere to get one anyway.

Feeling thoroughly miffed, I sat down at the kitchen island and puffed away, trying to sort my thoughts.

"You're stinking up the whole house, you know."

I felt my chest tighten and I grit my teeth, looking to the kitchen doorway where Gabriel stood, leaning on the doorframe.

"Everyone knows when you're here," he continued, pushing himself off the doorframe and making his way toward me.

Fuck him and his lofty sense of self. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's anything to drink around here?"

He took my dismissal with interest. Another blow to my small ego. "Talking about the hard stuff?"

I nodded, ignoring the heavy disdain that drifted between us as he stopped across the island from me. "Shouldn't you be with the welcoming committee tonight?"

He turned his head, smiling. "No," he said, looking back at me. "Since I'm an ex-Cammie, Jann thought it better I keep my face away. For safety purposes, as if I can't take care of myself. But really," he leaned on the countertop toward me. "I wouldn't be able to stand seeing her bitch face. I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with their bullshit tonight. So I'm out."

"Or you're afraid she'll recognize you?" It was a far fetch, but one that I felt worth making.

And he gave pause for a millisecond, enough for me to pocket and digest. "It's a big world out there, Charlie, and I'm not some yokel from around here. I hate the Cammies."

"I'm not some yokel, either. Anything 80 proof or up around here?" I narrowed my eyes, ignoring his clue the only way I knew how.

He tilted his head toward the door. "Follow me."

I quickly filled half my glass with orange juice and followed him down the hallway toward the garage, and he led me to the banquet chamber where he flipped a switch, setting the room in a dim light from the chandeliers ten feet above my head. It was half a dining area, the other half something of a ballroom and sitting area. Floor to ceiling windows along the far wall would let in ample sunlight during the daytime, making this into a stunningly classy room. It was rich with walnut and cherry woods, high-backed mahogany chairs surrounding a large table decorated to the nines with a rolling burgundy runner, gold baskets with faux fruit and floral arrangements, thick and intricate Oriental rugs underneath it all, ornate china cabinets flanking the inner wall, and plush cream sofas at the far end of the room. A black grand piano, perhaps even a Steinway, sat at the opposite corner beside the windows that rose up the twelve foot ceiling, luxurious golden curtains rising to the ceiling tied back with thick corded rope, tassels over a foot long to compensate for the size of the room.

I absorbed this view, following him without skipping a beat, and was acutely aware of his going to a curio by the cream-colored sofas where I could see the assorted bottles of every shade of brown to clear behind the glass. So this was where they hid the good stuff. He opened the door, withdrawing a bottle of some brand I'd only see on the top shelf.

"Screwdriver?" He said, eyeing the tall glass of orange juice in my hand.

"To the top," I replied, offering him my highball.

He raised an eyebrow, but obliged my request with finesse, and handed my glass back to me. I thanked him, glancing to the seating area behind us. A glass dish sat on one of the end tables cattycornered between an armchair and a loveseat, and I settled myself down on the loveseat, setting my pack of smokes down and taking a cooling gulp of the citrusy drink. It hit the spot, the burn down my throat into my gut familiar and reassuring.

I hadn't even blinked, and I could feel his presence before I could even turn my head to see that he'd taken a seat at the armchair next to me, sitting there with his leg casually resting on his opposite knee, a cigarette dangling from his hand. Damn his celeritous nature.

"You – wait," but I could only gape as he lit one of my cigarettes in a cloud of smoke, a ring of O's puffing through the billowing plume. I was about to protest at his thievery, but then recalled that he was the one supplying me. He probably had another pack in some pocket, if I insisted to know. So instead, I stopped myself from protesting, got a cigarette for myself, and lit it up. How he'd swiped a cigarette from my pack so quickly, I couldn't know, but there was certainly one less cigarette in there than before. I took another swig of my drink, noticing with mild concern than I'd nearly drank half of the glass already in two swigs.

"Thirsty?"

I glared up at him, placing his butane lighter back on top of my pack. I hoped the smoldering tobacco made my eyes glitter for effect. But I doubted it. Any dramatic flare to my emotions never worked for me. "Stressed out. This wasn't really that easy. Anita Hyde is a slimy crook."

"You were warned."

I watched him puff away. He really was inhaling and exhaling. I'd seen hundreds of thousands of people smoking, but it seemed like I was watching a smoker for the first time in my life, awe capturing my gaze. I didn't know vampires could smoke. If they weren't so reclusive, they'd make the ideal advertisement models for Philip Morris. But that was probably just Gabriel. And a cowboy, he was not. "She tried to come on to me," I continued, "but once we were upstairs in the room, she wanted to talk business. She wanted to know why I was there, how I knew of Frank, and she was trying to convert me into her ghoul. So what's her deal? She brought up Jann, too, and that he's a fraud and she's going to set up these princes around here."

"You don't say," he tilted his head. I swear I'd never seen someone smoke a cigarette in such an alluring manner as Gabriel did.

I fumed in silence, taking another gulp and trying to find something soothing in my cigarette despite his cockiness. "She seemed to know a lot. I didn't realize Jann is so well-known among all these vampire groups."

He scoffed before replying. "What princes around here are you talking about?"

"Mac and Goen. Lin told me they're the local leaders of here, New Haven, and Boston."

He shrugged. "So what?"

I narrowed my eyes. He was playing the fool with me. "First, Anita said that Jann's working for Mac. And Mac's working for Goen. So is Jann working for Goen, then, too? Second, Lin tells me that Anita's breaking Cammie rules and that we're exposing her as a Cammie rulebreaker. But Anita said that she's going to expose Jann as a Cammie crony to get back at Goen for some personal grudge. But there's a disconnect somewhere, and I won't deny that something doesn't smell right. Oh, and on top of all this, this super Anarch person, Una, gets called over here by Jann? For what?" I raised an eyebrow, tipping my glass toward him. "I did my part tonight, now I want to know what the hell's going on." I seethed internally, waiting a few seconds and watching his unchanging and aloof expression. There was almost a sort of cool aura around him. Even the smoke trail from his cigarette took on a bluish hue.

"Well it's clear that there are two very opposing opinions here. Isn't it obvious?"

I scowled at him. "I'm not stupid."

"Right," he said, his eyes unfocused on something beyond the chandelier. "Ever hear of the saying, 'there are no stupid people, just stupid questions?' Or was it 'there are no stupid questions, just stupid people?' "

What irritated me the most was the nonchalance of his insults. But I didn't feel any malic from him. Though he did just call me stupid. "So I'm asking you the wrong questions? How about, instead of asking you what's going on, I'll ask you what you _think_ is going on?"

He exhaled a long stream of smoke, rolling his eyes toward me, a smirk in his eye. "I already _know_ what's going on, sweetheart. It's also certainly conceivable to have both a stupid question from an equally stupid person. All things are possible, you know."

"Stop bullshitting," I growled, tightening my grasp on my glass, and got even more angrier when I realized I'd become so consumed with my irritation with him that I'd lost my train of thought. "Bastard," I grumbled, sucking on my cigarette.

Minutes went by in silence.

I glared at him while he pondered the cigarette between his fingers, watching the smoke curl in the still air.

I finished my cigarette before him, stamped it out, and was nearly finished with my drink when he finally put out his cigarette in the ashtray.

Another minute went by. I could feel the effects of the liquor now. I'd consumed more liquor tonight than I usually would on a stressful weekend night. And it was quite strong. My limbs practically buzzed with a hot numbness, I could feel my cheeks warming, my vision slightly swimming and slurring. So when Gabriel began to say something, it took a moment for me to focus on him, and another second to process that he was watching me with amusement.

"Should I start over?"

Annoyance quelled some of my inebriation, and I straightened myself up (when had I sunk into the cushions?) and took a deep breath. "I'm listening."

He chuckled. "As I was saying, Anita is not really Anita. To humans and Anarchs, she is Anita Hyde. To the Camarilla, she is Sophie Josef. And Sophie is her Jeckyll. Or is Hyde her Jeckyll? Anyway, Anarchs wouldn't know any of this."

"So you _were_ –"

"Don't interrupt me." And he reached over to my pack of cigarettes, ignoring my delayed reaction of a scowl, and withdrew a cigarette, motioning it toward me. I nodded, hoping it wouldn't get me nauseous, and watched him light it and lean forward to give it to me. He lit up his own, and sat back into his armchair, looking at the cancer stick. "To this little ragtag group, the Hand of Doom as they like to call themselves, they think that Sophie is their ticket to fame. But I'm sure Jann knows, much like Una knows, that you don't underestimate a Toreador. And I'm tempted to believe that Sophie knows just what she's doing here. She probably wanted to meet him. Jann's the wild card. I can't figure him out, and I'm not ashamed to say it. Tremeres are sick sons of bitches. They take pride in being complicated. I'm too straightforward, that's why I don't get along with any of them.

"Jann might be working for Mac. It wouldn't surprise me. All politicians are crooked. Mac and Goen may be princes in name, but Goen's got more klout than Mac. Goen has issues with everybody, and so far, he still has all the right connections. It'll catch up to him sooner or later. Goen wants Mac out. And I'll be damned if Sophie isn't a part of it. I just don't have all the pieces yet. If I cared enough. But I'm sick of their games, that's why I left. They're your friend one day, and the next minute, they're signing your arrest warrant. I don't trust anybody. And I suggest you do the same. They all know what to say and when to say it."

"You're turning dark."

"What?" He narrowed his eyes, smoke streaming out of his nostrils.

Damn the alcohol and its tendency to make me blurt out my thoughts. But it was true. "You're not blue anymore. You're getting darker." And my heart thudded in my chest when I saw his eyes deaden for a few seconds.

"Fuck you. The hell did Jann do to you anyway?"

"Nothing at all. He said I'm his science experiment."

"I know that. Whatever. I'm done trying to figure him out. God only knows how you have _that_ ability. What else can you do besides hide in the dark?"

Had I told that to him? But what was the harm anyway, Jann had told me to practice with Gabriel. Maybe he didn't want the others to get jealous of my abilities? For the moment, I was done trying to analyze everything, too.

"Jann never mentioned a Filipe to you, has he?"

I paused in my inhale, turning to look at him and his sudden change in subject. "A Filipe? No." But then I bit my tongue. The post-it note I'd stashed away in my bra was burning me, because that was the name I'd seen right above Gabriel's name in Jann's phonebook. I'd copied both. And I didn't think it was a good idea to share that information with Gabriel just now. I didn't realize my cigarette was still poised beside my mouth, and I slowly returned it to my lips for a drag, glancing at him.

His expression was unreadable. "You fail to comprehend the fact that I am a vampire, and you are not."

What cryptic speak was this?

"You lie like a child."

The heavy silence was suddenly split with the vibrating hum of his phone.

He didn't take his eyes off of me as he reached into his back pocket and retrieved his phone. It continued to vibrate and I watched him never take his eyes from me as he thumbed the screen to take the call. I didn't take my eyes off of him, either.

"What," he exclaimed, his voice cold and flat.

Even from here, I could hear the yelling of his name from the caller. I could hardly make out the words because of the crackling. But it sounded something like 'Crenshaw' and 'chop my head off' and some other frantic rabbling. It didn't sound good. And throughout, Gabriel maintained his poker face. And then the line cut out.

He put down the phone, continued to stare and me, and said nothing.

I didn't know whether to address the phone call or to beg for his understanding. I took a drag and prepared for some sort of emotional letdown.

"It occurred to me right after I said it, Gabriel, I'm sorry." And leave it at that.

Silence and staring.

Was I really going to let him do this to me? Coldness made my lungs feel like ice. "He let me go into his office, and I found his phonebook." I thought to look around the room to make sure Jann wasn't eavesdropping on us from the hallway, but I ignored the fear. "I found your name, and Filipe's name was right above it. I wrote it down, I thought it might be important someday, I'm sorry, I didn't remember at first, I really didn't."

His hand extended toward me, his arms rigid. "Show me those numbers."

Unabashed by his silent rage, I reached into my dress and pulled out the folded up paper and placed it in his hand.

He didn't take it angrily, he didn't hasten his movements, and he remained in the same stiff position as he unfolded the paper and looked at the names and numbers I'd copied. "What color am I now?"

I choked back my initial confusion and looked for any color around him. Under his black jacket, his dark blue shirt seemed to glow. And as I looked, the haze around it began to take on a different hue. Was that it? "...It's turning purple?"

He nodded once, his eyes studying the small list of names and numbers on my paper. I hadn't looked at it since I'd written them down, and I couldn't recall who was on there.

"What do these colors mean?" I didn't want to interrupt, but what the hell. I'd lied, but I'd rectified it. Now what?

"You're reading my emotions. They come off as auras to you. Auspex, remember? This is a very interesting piece of paper here, Charlie." He folded the paper and handed it back to me.

I took it back and quickly opened it. I'd scribbled down Gabriel, Filipe, R, P, Archie, Liz, Mac, and Cren, and their respective numbers on it. Mac. Prince Mac? I looked up at him, genuinely surprised that I hadn't made the connection before.

"Do you know who called me?"

Oh yeah, that crazy phone call. "Who was it?"

"That was Martin. Sounds like he ran into a Crenshaw who's getting ready to chop his head off. Or, more accurately, put a stake through his sorry little heart. It was a setup, he said. They made him hang up the phone before I could say good-bye."

"Who's Crenshaw?"

He made a dubious face, most assuredly one of sarcasm because he said, "You should know, you wrote down his number."

"I don't know who these people are! Well, I assume this Mac is the same Mac we were talking about... but wait, you're telling me this Crenshaw's killing Martin?"

"He's probably dead already."

I gaped. "What setup?"

"I don't know. Hand of Doom's business, not mine."

My hands began shaking, and I reached over to get another cigarette. Who would set him up? It was intentional, but who would do that to Martin? He was loopy and weird to begin with, so who had he wronged? As I lit up, I immediately thought of Donna. And who had she been talking to that day anyway? "Does the name Boor or Craw ring a bell?" I asked, willing the nicotine to cease my jitters.

"In what context?"

I huffed in annoyance. "Really? Does it matter? Why can't I just ask a fucking question?"

"I need to know who said it."

Need, really? I hoped admitting this would automatically throw her under the bus, back up, then under again. "I overheard Donna on the phone the other night, and she mentioned those names. She said she met with Craw and then something about how Boor and Una approved of it. And Martin needed to pull his weight about something. I don't know who she was talking to." But I did recall letting Jann know about that phone call, and his dismissal of it. Did he know this would happen? Fortunately, Gabriel didn't notice my contemplation this time.

"Boor is this locale's unofficial Anarch leader."

And then he said nothing, his eyes wandering away. His purple cloud shifted back into a medium blue. Whatever that meant.

Again, for what seemed like the umpteenth time tonight, I finished my cigarette in silence. Third cigarette? My head was starting to hurt. I'd drank too fast and smoked too much. I looked at the clock. It was half past ten already. Time sure flew when I was having fun.

"Not safe here anymore," was all he said.

"Can you please explain before you go?"

"One more cigarette. Then it's been nice knowing you. Good luck with Jann, and all that good stuff." He withdrew another cigarette from my pack, then paused in afterthought, and took out a fresh pack of my cigarettes from his shirt pocket. "Better savor this, I don't think Jann'll be buying you smokes anytime soon." He lit up his cigarette, took a lingering glance at his silver lighter, and set it back down on my pack, exhaling a thick cloud. "It's pretty simple, actually," he stood up, stretched, and began to walk toward the tall windows.

My heart raced. Was he truly leaving? I hastily stood up, wobbled for a moment, gained my balance, grabbed my smokes, and walked after him.

He paused, turning his head until I stood beside him in front of the windows, our reflections hardly two feet in front of us. But I was looking at him beside me rather than at his reflection. He didn't look at me at all. "There's no such thing as loyalty, that's all. They don't trust Jann. They're trying to set him up as an infiltrator. Crenshaw's the Boston sheriff. Camarilla. The Camarilla know about Donna's schemes to get rid of Jann, and they caught up to them. Now why is that, I wonder?" He turned away from the window and looked down at me.

"Because... the Camarilla are protecting Jann from his own group?"

"That's one way to put it."

I gave him a puzzled look. "How is there more than one way to say the facts?"

He inhaled and blew the smoke back out onto the oversized window panes. "Because everybody's got a secret to hide."

"And what does Anita – er, Sophie, have anything to do with this?"

"The plot thickens, yes, thanks to Jann," he shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Seems our friend has a hand in every faction. Sophie sounds like a Camarilla setup to me. She's managed to dupe the Anarchs, but she's not duping Jann."

"So what are they doing to her now?" I found it peculiar that I'd heard nothing or no one else in this house since I got here. Or were there soundproof walls in this place?

He shrugged, looking back outside. He was halfway through his cigarette. My heart skipped a beat. Would this be the last time I'd see him? "I don't know. Busy, busy, busy. They love to be so busy. I'm so tired of it."

"Are you really leaving?"

He smiled in a most arrogant way before he looked back down at me. "You'll miss me?"

I questioned myself but replied quickly. "You're the only one that treats me halfway decent. Yeah, I might. Maybe."

"And you'll be stuck with Jann," he laughed, and not sympathetically at all. "That's too bad. But you're an anomaly, I understand. Yeah, I'm leaving." He pulled on his cigarette. Two more puffs, and he'd be done.

"I don't understand."

He thinned his lips and cocked his head, eyeing me from the side. "It's not safe for _me_ here anymore. The web's too big, and too many people involved. I knew Jann would be bad news. He'll be glad I'm gone."

And then the glass in front of us shattered into a million pieces, and my world turned black.


	14. Sunday, Before Midnight

When I came to, they were still struggling with Gabriel. Four to one. Hardly fair. Just like Anita.

Someone held me from behind, and I didn't even bother to fight back. There was no point. The frigid night air poured in from the broken window. How they'd snuck up on Gabriel, I couldn't comprehend.

But there he was, one of his four attackers managing to maintain some grapple or grip on him, until I saw another figure stroll in from the hallway. He was enormous. He looked like a biker on steroids and then some. His hair was short and greasy, his eyes beady and almost white. Terrifying, really. Fortunately, his attention was focused on Gabriel. And Gabriel fought and cursed even harder when he noticed the newcomer. And no one made a sound, just the scuffling and thuds of violence. Despite the hot rush of adrenaline in my veins, I broke out in a cold sweat.

And our newest guest suddenly leapt well over fifteen feet across the room and landed fist-first into Gabriel. I squealed out in horror, and suddenly a meaty cold hand slapped over my mouth. I could hardly breathe and tears clouded my vision as I struggled to give my nose some breathing room. No one could survive the velocity and force of something like that.

Gabriel collapsed to the ground, seized by all four attackers, and with a hand over his mouth, the room was bathed into silence.

My mind struggled to comprehend what the hell I'd just witnessed.

"Well, well, well," the big greasy man exclaimed, brushing off his vest and giving Gabriel a scathing look. "Not too shabby of a place, eh?" He looked around the room, his eyes passing over me without a moment's consideration. "I thought Tremeres liked to keep it subtle. Always learnin' somethin', eh?" He had a rather thick Boston accent that drawled more than slurred. "Unmouth the fella, would ya?"

Gabriel, still bound but now able to clench his jaw, glared at him.

"Did I hurt your pretty face, Sir Pierce? I meant to do that. We got business to take care of, Cammie scum, say your last good-byes to your girlfriend here, and let's get this show started. What should we do first, break her neck, or start a deal with Filipe?"

Gabriel's muscles tensed, but he still said nothing. Blood poured down a gash above his cheekbone.

"Martin killed himself for this, you know, show a little appreciation here, would ye?"

I tried to shake off this smelly hand from my mouth, but to no avail. It smelled like dirt and sweat. And now the apparent ringleader turned around and approached me. I fought off cowering and glared at him instead. He jerked his head as he walked, and the hand came off my face. I breathed. It was all I could do.

"So what's your name, young lady?"

"None of your damn business."

"That's pretty rude. I'm Noel, and you are?"

"Charlie."

"Ah, the new girl, right. Gabe's buddy. Not his type, so tell me what he wants from ye."

I glowered and said nothing.

He stopped in front of me and leaned down face to face with me. "When I ask questions, they're answered, get it? I don't ask twice."

"I don't know."

"Ooh," he chuckled, standing back up and looking aghast. A few of them, including the one holding me, sniggered. "Stubborn, I likey. But useless. You just some pawn those Cammies like to power play with, I get it." He tapped his finger on his head and grinned. "Weasel Gabe making Jann jealous, I know. So what you think?" He leaned back down to me. I could hardly keep my eyes steady on his white ones. "Should I let'm watch, or should I let'm suffer? And by watch, I mean watch you die."

I lowered my brows, livid. "Who is Filipe?"

"Oh-h!" He stood back up again, looking back at Gabriel. "Didn't tell your girlfriend about Filipe? Tsk, can't run away forever, boy." He shook his head and turned back to me. "Filipe's his daddy who likes to give'm the cane for runnin' away all the time. I s'pose he never told you he was a lil' Cammie runaway now, did he? Your sins'll always find you out," he said in a low voice, looking away from me. "And daddy won't be happy when he has to make another deal for you. Maybe this time, they'll let us have you for good, eh?"

'Daddy?' I had to assume that meant the vampire that had turned him. What'd they call it, a sire? I looked at Gabriel who continued staring daggers at Noel, and felt nothing but dread for him.

"I _will_ break your neck, and what you have to say about that?"

"I want to know what happens."

"Hm," he cupped his chin and tilted his head. "I'll oblige your curiosity 'cause you're a stubborn bitch." He turned around and went back toward Gabriel. "See Gabe, I have compassion, I'm fair. But for you, it's business. I got my orders." It was only when he reached under his jacket did I realize he wasn't merely just brawn. A large blade, almost like a machete, gleamed in his grip. I struggled under my binds, and the hand clamped over my mouth again before I could scream.

I could only watch Gabriel stand there, stoic and proud.

My mind screamed at him to flee. But two pairs of arms held each of Gabriel's, and Noel's aim was unwavering, the blade slid silently into Gabriel's abdomen, and then withdrew, a fountain of blood streaming down his shirt.

I felt faint. No one covered his mouth, yet he didn't utter a single sound.

The knife went in again, ruthless, Noel held it there and leaned forward, whispered something into Gabriel's ear, twisted the blade, then withdrew it. The blood was pooling at his feet, and Gabriel slumped, then went limp.

Not a moment passed before Noel waved at his crew and began walking out of the room.

My head went cold, I couldn't feel my hands or feet. I couldn't even whimper. I couldn't feel anything at all. Three of them unattached themselves from Gabriel. The remaining one let him drop to the floor and I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard his head hit the floor. Nausea overwhelmed me even before the blood began to spill, and I let myself get wrenched away from the scene. I hung limply in my guard's grip, letting him drag me across the floor.

I hardly took note of the two breaking down the door to Jann's office as I was dragged through the hallway, through the foyer, and back down the other hallway into the room with the fireplace. The place where it had all began. I wanted to cry, but there was nothing inside. It just kept playing over and over in my head. The blade coming out of him, dripping with dark blood. His skull crunching onto the floor.

And he hadn't uttered a word. Gabriel. You knew. I should have never made you stay for one last cigarette. You should have left. I shouldn't have kept you. Gabriel, I am so sorry. The rock in my throat was beyond painful, likes needles in my voice box. My head swam, my ears clogged and whined, and my fingers twitched.

I was thrown into the seat by the armchair, coincidentally the one that Jann had been sitting in on my first night here. My hands were tied and I offered no resistance. They had Gabriel handcuffed as well, and he was thrown on the couch. His wound still pumped a trickle of blood, albeit much more slowly now. Why had they tied him up? His head lolled and his half-closed eyes stared into the unknown. My guard left me in the chair. I guess they figured I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Were they really going to break my neck? Did it matter if I lived or died?

What did I have to live for, anyway? Not even thinking twice about having my life so violently cut away shocked me only now as I stared at Gabriel's lifeless body. The two stood by the door that led to the atrium – and to the lower level where I assumed everyone was. They hadn't heard any of this commotion at all? Their celerity has just died! I wanted vindication, I wanted—I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

I couldn't believe it. Gabriel, dead?

Noel remained at the other entrance of the room. I heard the front door open, two pairs of footsteps coming down the corridor toward this room.

Well now this was turning into one big party. I studied the two waiting by the doorway. They were rather muscular and built as well, like Noel. And ugly as hell. This was their club. Just your average meathead bullies.

It didn't take long for the latest visitor to make an entrance. It was a she. She was as tall as Noel, blonde, aquiline nose and sharp dark eyes that took in everything before she even set eyes on it. Her eyes settled on Gabriel for a moment, then immediately glanced at me for not even a second, then looked at Noel who was sputtering and grinning at her.

"It's an honor, missus, we've just gotten started."

"You're behind schedule," she exclaimed, crossing her arms and looking at the doorway where the two guards stood. Her bodyguard made his appearance, and he rivaled Noel in size and stature. Those two would put up a good fight, if it came down to it. And I wouldn't want to be in their way if they did.

More footsteps from the hallway. That was probably the other two that had raided Jann's office. How had they known where to look? I recalled this Noel guy being mentioned by Martin at that meeting a couple nights ago. I'd gotten the impression that he was an Anarch strongarm back then, but I didn't realize that he was this brutish. And that fifteen foot leap? That was impossible. But I'd seen it with my own eyes. Had to be some sort of vampire thing. I'd seen it in the movies enough times.

But it's most assuredly different to see it in reality. My stomach turned at the memory.

"Eh, that must be my boys," Noel said, grinning. "They've been looking for evidence, looks like they found some. Jack?"

The two made their entrance, and the more weasely of the two approached him with a green binder in hand. He dropped a thumbdrive into Noel's waiting clutches as well. "Done. He's a plant alright."

I studied their so-called evidence. Because as Noel shifted through those papers in the binder, I knew damn well that there was no such thing as a green binder in Jann's office to speak of. Papers, yes, but no aggregate collection of 'evidence.' They were the ones that had planted evidence. But I kept my mouth shut. It was hardly worth it. Not with Gabriel laying on the couch with his hands behind his back and his guts sliced open, blood beginning to cake on his face, his blond hair matted and splotchy with drying blood. I looked away before I gagged on my phlegm.

And I heard the troop, the circus of backstabbing characters that called themselves the Hand of Doom, making their way toward this room.

The two that had just arrived stole silently to the doorway.

Who was here, anyway?

I guess I was going to find out.

Noel joined them, and the lady and her bodyguard stepped to the side out of sight.

And Bengal was the first that came through the doorway. Noel went for him, and the other five pounced on the rest in the passage.

They were all seized easily. It was almost embarrassing. And it was then that I realized the vast difference between a Caitiff and a Camarilla clan.

But Jann was nowhere in sight.

There was Bengal, Alec, Will, Saul, Jamie. Lin and Donna were present and submissive, cringing in terror at the speedy violence and capture. I glared at Donna. I knew she had some part in it. The fact that she didn't even look at me was proof enough of her guilt.

But still, I kept my mouth shut. At least I had a chair to sit in.

The lady and her bodyguard reappeared. Noel threw Bengal a few punches, to which Bengal fell unconscious. "I'm all for fucking up the Cammies, but what'd you do with that whore?"

"Fuck you," Bengal slurred through broken teeth and a swollen jaw.

So Noel punched him again. I could swear his jaw was broken this time. Bengal didn't say another word.

The woman strode forward, her eyes focused on Noel. "Where's Jann?"

"I am here, Lady Una," Jann exclaimed, striding calmly into the room. "A little Mask of Shadows never hurt anyone, wouldn't you agree?"

So this was the Una of the Anarchs. She narrowed her eyes, pausing in midstep. Their unease at his presence was obvious.

"Your rituals are repulsive, Jann Tazo," she retorted, snorting and making her stance, crossing her arms.

"Not as vicious as your Gangrel puppets," Jann replied, glancing down at Gabriel then back at her. He didn't look at me at all.

Una scoffed, looking at Bengal and the others struggling with their captors. The two girls stood meekly to the side, gawking at Gabriel's corpse or their respective blood bonders. Donna, that fucking traitor. I seethed, staring at her repulsive presence. I should have known better. But Jann continued, his cool demeanor putting everyone on edge.

"If you're here for me, then here I am. Leave everyone else alone. They're innocent."

"Not all," Noel snarled, holding Bengal in a such a position to break his neck at a moment's notice. "You recruit your fellow Cammie scum, we'll see we get justice."

"Right, eye for an eye, all that drivel. Take whatever you want- "

"What did you do with Hyde?" Una interrupted.

"I saved her for you. Oh, you didn't think I knew you were paying me a visit with your rusty hulks? Gangrels have a hard time staying clandestine, you should know this by now."

"Damn you, Jann, admit your treachery and let us be done with it," Una growled.

"No treachery," he smiled, shaking his head. "Would I let such an atrocity like this just happen?"

"Fucking Tremere motherfucker," Noel shouted, "we have evidence you're a fucking traitor right here!" He kicked the green binder to the middle of the room.

"Peculiar," Jann frowned, not even looking at the binder spinning to a stop on the floor in front of him. "Since I've never possessed such cheap stationery in my life. I daresay it possesses some rather poor grammar within it as well." He shook his head and it gave me chills. "You know damn well you dropped that down my chimney and opened the flute at a most opportune time."

Bengal suddenly began thrashing, giving Noel a start. "You're fucking traitors to the cause," he bellowed, helpless against the giant. "You think we're traitors, tell us the fucking truth without trying to be some fucking macho motherfuckers!"

"Your boss is a Cammie plant, asshole!" Noel roared back, jerking Bengal's head back. Bengal was helpless. "You think he's on your side, you got no idea how big of a fucking actor this guy is!"

"Fuck you!"

Ugh with the machismo. I glanced at Gabriel, then back to Jann who was as cool as could be. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second before he looked back to the assailants, much to their obliviousness. And it suddenly occurred to me that Gabriel was not dead. For as an undead, his corpse would have faded into dust with the final thrust of the blade. But there was no lethal thrust. Gabriel was fully whole, despite his blood loss and broken skull. He was still alive. To some degree.

The warmth spread through me like the summer's burning sunrays.

He was still alive. And I nearly missed Una's response.

"...with Hyde. She's still alive, isn't she? You wouldn't dare commit such a heinous crime against your kind now, would you?"

"You're bound to the same laws," Jann replied. He looked so serene amid the tension in the room.

"Not to the point of insanity. Admit your crimes and spare your fools the suffering."

"I have committed no crimes. I don't play your games."

"And you won't be getting away with this!" Bengal yelled, suddenly and nearly getting the better of Noel. They struggled and strained with each other, Lin yelping out a small cry when Noel extracted his blade.

And then Bengal yelled, his body exploded into a cloud of dark ash, and all I heard was Donna's screaming over and over.

I stared in shock.

How had he killed Bengal? His blade was poised over his heart.

A stake to the heart.

Donna kept screaming. I shuddered, looking to an indifferent Una, back to the reveling Noel who kicked the ash back into the air, then to an apathetic Jann. "That was wholly unnecessary," Jann exclaimed.

"To prove a point," Noel growled. "Get on with your confession, or else you're next."

And Alec suddenly threw his arms up, momentarily freeing himself from his captor. Noel was on him in a second, blade poised at his heart. Alec froze.

Bengal was enough. Donna had fallen to her knees, her bond broken, her addiction shattered, her life worthless. Now Lin groveled, too, begging Noel from a distance to leave Alec alone. Alec was a creep, but not worth death. It felt difficult to lament Bengal's death when I never liked the guy to begin with. But he was the second in command. Jann trusted him. He had to have felt that. I looked back to Jann.

He was unperturbed. "Senseless murder won't change the truth," he said, watching Una.

"Admit the truth, or I shall execute another."

"You've broken the Masquerade."

"Don't bring that up with me," Una replied, taking a step toward him. "Your masquerading put us in this place to begin with!"

"How many will you kill before you decree my verdict? Do not forget that I called you here. You have a strange way of working your business."

"I'm in the business of weeding out the moles."

"Emissary Una, your reputation precedes you. There's no reason to overdo it."

She furrowed her brows and took another step toward him. "Would you prove yourself otherwise?"

"Evidence," Jann gestured to the binder. "Get your bullies out of here and then we can discuss matters in a respectable way."

"There's only one way to deal with scum like you," Una replied, folding her arms. She'd taken her stance. "Jann Tazo, you are under arrest for espionage, sedition of innocents, and the manipulations of human resources for private aspirations to the detriment of the Masquerade."

Jann broke out into laughter, his voice carrying through the room. He smiled at Una. "I plead the fifth, if you so insist."

"Spy!"

Jann shook his head and glanced at Alec. "So arrest me. You're wasting your time here."

"Where is Hyde!"

"Below. Or perhaps that is merely theoretical. You're in no place to threaten me."

"Tremere's have no place with us!" Noel interjected, taking a stance beside Una and her bodyguard.

Jann shook his head. "I would not do this if not for your unjust accusations."

Noel roared and lunged toward the seemingly defenseless Jann.

And Noel suddenly fell to the ground, writhing and howling in pain.

On queue, Alec and the others, Will, Saul, and Jamie, attempted to attack their captors.

I cringed on the chair, watching the melee. Una smoldered in anger and dove at Jann. I cried out, but their movements were too fast. Jann wasn't there anymore, and the perpetrators were writhing on the floor. And so was Jamie. I froze in terror, trying to understand what the hell was happening. And then I noticed Una resisting, straining to sprint to a corner by the opposite entrance where I saw Jann. His palm was out, his lips moved, his eyes were golden.

She reached him, twirling in the air as she hurled herself at him. And she screamed the moment she made contact with him, retracting quickly and grabbing at her hand.

I saw the burning flesh before I smelled the disgusting odor. Magician indeed! I tried to disappear into the chair, balling myself up to watch the pitiful figures twisting and thrashing on the floor. My heart flew into my throat when I saw Jamie crumble in a mist of dust. How had he died when the others hadn't? The room was afoul with their guttural cries of agony.

It was then that I noticed the blood seeping out of their orifices. I trembled, looking back at Jann. He clenched his fist, and before I could even look back, all five figures of Noel's gang, and including Noel, shattered into dust.

Una shrieked, still clutching her injured hand and backed away from Jann. "You'll pay! You'll pay!"

Jann's expression was stone and he put his hands down at his sides. "Leave, now."

"This isn't over, Cammie scum! Your trial is only getting started!"

Her bodyguard glared at Jann as he ushered Una out of the room. The room fell into silence as those that remained began to pick themselves up from off the floor.

So this was the magician at work.

"Leave," Jann said again, his voice stern and edging with irritation.

I craned my neck over the turned over sofas and tables. And there, I saw Saul and Donna move toward each other. They stared at Jann for a moment, then hastily ran out of the room after Una. I raised an eyebrow. And then Alec stood up to Jann.

"It's done then?" Alec exclaimed, dusting himself off.

Jann nodded.

Alec nodded back and he took off down the other hallway. I stared after him. What was that about? I looked back to the remaining few in the room: Will and Lin. I swallowed hard. How the hell had everyone disappeared so quickly? They'd really all died? My eyes swept the room, soot staining the carpet and upholstery. There was Gabriel, still lifeless on the sofa. No one had disturbed his interminable sleep. And Jann approached him, stood over him, and contemplated.

I got up from the chair, Lin looking at me like a frightened animal. "Oh my god, you're okay! I saw Gabriel and I thought for sure..." She trailed off as I ignored her and went to stand beside Jann.

"So he isn't dead then," I said to Jann.

"No," he replied, still pondering over Gabriel's wounds. "Torpor. Temporary blood loss. I thought you would know by now."

I blushed when I realized he'd enlightened me before without even uttering a word. "Yeah, thanks."

"How would you get him back...?" I couldn't say 'to life.' That was the farthest thing from the truth.

"There is no life," Jann answered. "Would you have him open his eyes?"

It was a sin that anytime he spoke to me, the rest of the world disappeared like a foggy image in the recesses of my mind. That had to be some special power of his. "I would so that he can get away from here." I met his steady gaze.

"He does not belong to me."

"Or me," I replied. But I knew damn well he was referring to Filipe. "Doesn't he have a choice?"

Jann let the moment pass in silence, and I could assume the answer from him.

"I want him to have the choice," I said.

"He needs your blood."

I hastily cradled my hands to my chest, scowling. "I'm not food. Find someone else."

"I cannot for many reasons. He doesn't need much. His wounds are healable, but he needs you."

Dared I believe him? I looked down at Gabriel. He looked beyond dead. His face was hollow, misshapen from the Gangrel beating, and was horribly disheveled in every sense of the word. And he was too smart to let go of. Was Jann playing with my heart? Did I really feel something for this arrogant egomaniac? I looked back up to Jann. "How much?"

Jann held out his hand toward me, palm up.

So this was the moment. Leave him dead, or have him owe me one. The latter was tempting. Would he honor me? I looked down at him again. His smooth skin. The clever tongue and dichotomous mind drifting farther and farther away with each passing second. Would he last long if I refused? In the flurry of heartbeats, I took a step forward and thrust my arm into Jann's hand. I felt like I'd just exposed myself to him as his fingers wrapped around my wrist and met my gaze. I could hardly meet his gaze, but he didn't fully grasp my wrist until I raised my eyes to his. The world fell away around us, his golden eyes latching onto mine as he raised my arm to his lips. I anticipated the baring of teeth, there was none; I saw the blood swelling underneath his lips, and yet, I still felt no pain. It was most peculiar. He withdrew, lowered his eyelids and moved my arm to Gabriel, my crimson liquid pooling up in the flat of my wrist. He twisted my wrist and I moved accordingly, and all I could think of was that he hadn't punctured my artery, or else I would be spurting blood all over the place.

The incision faced downward, and my blood dripped in a stream onto the edge of Gabriel's mouth. His mouth wasn't open, how would he ingest it? My life force would revive a dead man?

It was an appallingly impressive moment.

Jann faded away into the distance. Even his touch was indiscernible. The only thing I saw was Gabriel blink his eyelids, the sudden motion of his lips make way for his tongue to lick his lips, skimming the crimson liquid that dripped over his lips, watching my blood be tasted.

And it was then that I knew he was forever mine. For eternity, he would crave me. Want me. Ours would be a battle of possession. Battling with the devil. Gabriel would become my definition of desire.

And Jann was the cause of this evil.

The world reappeared around me in a flash, and I involuntarily gasped. I looked to Jann who had brought my wrist back to his lips. Those amber eyes hypnotizing, controlling. I was Charlie. And I had just brought a vampire back to immortality.

And I was forever tainted with the sins of my own blood.

I felt the warmth of his tongue on my skin and I retracted my arm. I felt like I'd just extended it to him. But it was the farthest things from the truth. Will and Lin were behind me, Jann not hardly a foot next to me, and Gabriel below us, twisting and groaning in agony. I inhaled sharply, hardly catching my breath, and took a step back away from the scene in front of me.

And I heard a strange voice behind me. I whirled around, nearly falling backwards before I could steady myself on the armrest of the sofa. A tall man, dark-eyed and light-haired, strolled into the room. Will and Lin took a step back in surprise.

The memories of the violence and catastrophe of the evening bombarded my mind's eye with no mercy. As if on queue, the clock began its chime. It was finally midnight.


	15. Sunday, Midnight

The stranger carried himself into the room with discipline and pride. It wasn't the grating sort of pride, but rather the self-assured sort. One that commanded respect and esteem. The real kind.

I could only stare at him as he strode in, alone and disdainful.

Jann stepped aside, and only then did I notice that Gabriel was sputtering and struggling to get up.

"Gabriel Pierce?" The stranger declared, approaching us faster than I'd have liked him to.

Jann nodded, motioning toward me. "To our ace, Charlene Stanley."

He didn't even look at me but instead studied Gabriel's recovery.

Not even a wild card or the joker, I was the ace. Fascinating. I gave Jann a quick glance who seemed wholly unconcerned. "Who are you?" I questioned the outsider, defeating my inner dread.

"Prince of Boston, Miles Goen," he said, still never raising his eyes from Gabriel.

Well wasn't that interesting. I looked back down at Gabriel. He was attempting to sit up on the couch. I glanced down at my wrist. There wasn't even the slightest mark of a scar. This was why he'd brought my wrist back to him – to get rid of the cut. But also to perhaps drink from me. But Jann wasn't looking at me. I couldn't know for sure what he was doing. And so this was Goen, the supposed Prince of Boston, in the undead flesh, come to inspect the petty affairs of an Anarch fuckup. Interesting.

"Gabriel Pierce," Goen said as soon as Gabriel managed to get a control of himself. His voice was unwavering. "You are hereby under custody for evading your search warrant, and for obstruction of New York City Elysium procedure. You are forthwith returning to your rightful sire, Filipe Almeida, for private reprimand. Do you understand your position?"

It sounded pretty longwinded and horrible. Gabriel's grimacing came to a stop. He squinted, swallowed a few times and shook his head, then peered up at Goen. Those crystal blue eyes, nearly white in his emaciated condition, glared up at Goen.

"You lose," he said in a raspy voice, most unlike his usual melody.

"You're mistaken," Goen replied, shaking his head. "Devise your salutations and useless defenses, Filipe will see you in an hour. Jann," he turned, ignoring the consequential grunts and writhing by Gabriel. "You're clear?"

Gabriel was still handcuffed, but he sat himself up. But if he objected to Goen's verdict, why was he still sitting there, seemingly fighting with his handcuffs and writhing as if his ass were glued to the couch cushions?

"Don't think of me. I will collect my own dues."

I finally turned my attention to Jann. What dues?

"The beating heart?" Goen said as more a statement than a question.

Jann nodded. "Only one in this room. I'm owed some favors."

"It's out of my control," Goen replied, turning away and looking at Will and Lin. "What about these?"

"Free," Jann said, following Goen's gaze. "And hollow. They're perhaps valuable elsewhere, but not here."

Will maintained his impassiveness, but Lin couldn't help but become irritated. "We aren't useful? What the hell does that mean? I'm damn well useful! I know people, I—"

She suddenly stopped, and I couldn't understand why.

Goen spoke. "Continue on your ways. If you and your partner are important to you, I suggest you depart this place now. I can't prevent what would happen if you remained. Think of this as coerced sympathy."

"So you really are a Cammie," Lin breathed, unable to mask her anger. "You're really a fucking traitor. I can't believe it. After all this, and you... You...! Saving your own, you fucking bastard!"

Jann looked at her. "I'm giving you freedom. Save your grievances for someone who would care."

"You asshole," she mumbled.

"Your clock is ticking," Goen interrupted, "I suggest you leave these premises now. I didn't come all the way down here for this drivel. Move."

Will began for the door. Seemed he knew better. Lin was not so acquiescent. She resisted Will's tug on her arm and he paused mid-step as she glared at Goen. "You won't get away with this!"

Goen looked away and said nonchalantly, "Seems they want to join Martin this evening, wouldn't you say, _Jann_?"

Why he accented 'Jann' I wasn't sure, but Lin was legitimately confused. I looked at Gabriel. We knew why. Of course Goen and the Camarilla were behind it.

"Where is he?" Lin demanded, glaring at Goen.

It was Gabriel that sat himself up with some effort and broke the silence. It didn't seem Goen was interested in answering anyway. "He's dead. Sheriff got him."

"What?" Lin breathed, staring at Gabriel, half surprised at his revival as much as his statement.

"Crenshaw got him."

I studied him. There was a light green haze to him. But I felt nothing different toward him. In reality, I pitied him. There was no escaping for him now.

"Why?"

Goen still refrained from looking down at him, and Gabriel went on: "Because Donna used him as a scapegoat. They thought they could distract the Camarilla long enough to set up Jann themselves. Guess they didn't anticipate a prince coming through town." He purposefully ignored Goen and turned his head to look at Jann. Jann was looking down at him calmly. "And you let it happen. You're a murderer, and God knows this isn't the first time. You knew all about this, you knew Donna was setting up a coup, you knew they planted a lone wolf and sent out Martin to confront them. And you knew that Crenshaw would be there. There is no mercy for Anarchs, and that, Jann, we all know."

Jann took it like a champ, more or less. I had no reason to doubt Gabriel, but Lin was horrified. She sputtered, and Will tugged on her arm again.

"Get out," Gabriel broke the awkward silence, "before Crenshaw comes here for you, too."

Lin gave up and stumbled out of the room after Will.

"The lone survivors, hm?" Goen exclaimed a few moments after their departure. "Two lost souls trying to gather up the pieces. Pity. Useful at some times, but consistently convenient fodder all the time."

"They're honest," Gabriel growled, sitting himself up straight now. The blood seemed to be returning to his face. My blood. It felt like looking through a dark lens; it was there, but I couldn't comprehend it. "Not like you fucking scheming scumbags. I should have known."

"You're good," Goen exclaimed, finally looking down at him. "But you're not that good. Filipe wants you back, don't ask me why. You've been a nuisance for far too long."

"Quite the contrary," Jann said, looking pleasantly at the two of them. "Gabriel is well-versed in the Camarilla way. He may be useless elsewhere, but his keenness here has not gone unappreciated."

"Fuck you," Gabriel exclaimed, looking away. And he looked at me and gave pause. "You're still here." He stared at me, his eyes dilating.

I couldn't be sure what that meant. I held up my handcuffed wrists and gave a half-hearted shrug. "It's been interesting." I kicked myself about that horribly corny response afterwards. I couldn't have said anything more witty than that? A gleam of acknowledgment, perhaps even appreciation, flittered through his gaze before he looked away.

That was when Crenshaw entered. He was smaller than that Noel bully, but there was no question that he was just as strong, if not more so in a more compact body, than him. Maybe it was the way he held himself in confidence. And I hadn't even heard him enter the manse. In fact, I couldn't hear his footsteps at all. This had to be Crenshaw. Was he Gangrel, too?

"I expected a bigger party than this," he declared, hoarse and curt. His eyes settled on Gabriel. "So you've gotten the fugitive, I see. You make this too easy for me, Goen."

"Your real prize is in the basement," Jann exclaimed, motioning toward the room's exit. "You've been waiting patiently, it's just in your grasp now."

"Don't tell me this was all just one big setup," Gabriel interrupted, adjusting himself to appear menacing despite his handcuffed wrists behind his back. "You can't be fucking serious!"

Jann put his hands up. "Would it surprise you?"

Gabriel froze for a moment, then slumped over a millimeter. "I hate you all."

"The sooner you accept this, the happier you'll be, Gabriel Pierce," Crenshaw said curtly, folding his arms and staring him down. "Your sire knows your potential, though the rest of us question his illogical enthusiasm for you, but that's not my call or jurisdiction. But it seems you like the attention, negative, anything goes. Fitting. You're more Tory in all the exact ways than you'll ever admit. You're a sorry case."

"Belittle and ridicule, I'm used to it," he replied, flaring his nostrils and avoiding Goen and Jann's looks.

"Sophie is downstairs?"

"Correct, and just these two," Goen replied.

"Got it. As Sheriff of this domain, I am here to inform you, Gabriel Pierce, of your arrest and trial forthwith." And Crenshaw left the room, hardly paying any attention to the one he'd just sentenced.

Goen stepped closer to Jann and whispered something to him that I couldn't hear.

I watched Gabriel. He'd given up. He wouldn't meet my gaze, and he looked deep in thought. What would it mean for him to go back to his sire? Could it be so horrible? Would Crenshaw's order place him with a special one-time meeting with the guillotine? Was that why he refused to look at me? Would he finally meet his Maker and be damned for eternity? I glanced at Jann and Goen, and it was a wonder I'd never seen it before. The two of them looked equal, in both power and poise. If anything, Jann looked more imperial than the other. And this was a prince? They ruled the city or the locale, depending on the population. Why had he come all the way over here for some miniscule Anarch revolt and kidnapping? Unless Jann was a larger entity than he'd ever admit to. It was beyond a shadow of a doubt now that he really truly was a Camarilla infiltrator. He'd posed as an Anarch, and had succeeded. The passing of time was his largest asset, it seemed. He'd passed the Anarch sustainability, and accomplished his work. But I couldn't help but notice that while Crenshaw had declared that there was only Gabriel to arrest, he hadn't complained about the lack of other Anarchs to arrest. In fact, seeing how things were going already, he probably knew that Goen or Jann had allowed the nearly everyone to escape.

So there had to be way more that was going on here than met the eye. And what it most probably boiled down to was Anita – correction, Sophie Josef, had been up to. Whatever it was, it was worth the decades and extent of this heist. Which told me that Jann was horribly patient, and likewise as horribly sadistic and complicated as it appeared. What did that mean for me?

"Gabriel's under arrest. I'll be in touch for your statement," Goen declared, hinting at his exit. "You'll wait for Crenshaw?"

"I have everything I need," Jann replied. "There is nothing I need or am in want of from here. I'll be in touch."

A few seconds passed before Goen responded. "And the human?"

My heart jumped, knowing that they referred to me, and hadn't issued some death sentence on me instead. It was flattering, but unquestionably alarming. I was at their utter mercy.

Jann still didn't look at me. "I will take her with me. She may prove her worth with time."

What worth? My tendency of adopting abilities without the bonding? I made eyes at Jann, but he, of course, wasn't noticing. Most likely intentional.

Goen smirked and grunted at the same time. "I'll leave you to it. I don't know, but I'm sure you know what you're doing." He began toward Gabriel. The latter cringed, but was unable to do anything when Crenshaw picked him up from the forearm as if he were a small animal. "It's time you made amends," he said, lifting Gabriel up easily to his feet. There was a moment of realization that Gabriel was no small doll like Crenshaw treated him like. It revolted the senses.

Gabriel went with him without a fight, and before I could accept this fact, I found myself alone in the room with Jann. I was handcuffed. Jann was a devious two-face, a double-crossing Camarilla agent. He never denied it, but neither did he boast of it. It was as if it were the way it always was.

And only then did I notice that my eyes had drifted away, only to feel observed, and I looked up, for I was in fact being observed. Jann approached me but took a slight detour along the way to pick up the fire poker in the decorative iron stand beside the fireplace. I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Get down on the floor," he said, looking bored.

I scowled. "I presume you're taking me out of these cuffs."

"You presume correctly. On the hearth."

I placed my fists as far apart as I could on the cool slate and turned my head away. Squeezing my eyes never felt so honest. The iron came down on it before anticipated, and I jumped. Unfortunately, my hands were already apart and I fell on my ass. The broken cuffs dangled from my wrists like gaudy bracelets and I hastily got up onto my feet.

"This is as it always was, you are correct again," Jann said, putting the fire poker back into its stand. "I imagine Gabriel has been influencing you. Your cynicism is corresponding."

I floundered in a wave of rage and frustration. I put up the wall just as Jann looked back at me.

"You see auras now?"

I couldn't hide my surprise. "How do you know?"

He smiled. "It would be wise to assume others possess that ability. Fortunately for you, you will be able to disguise your own."

"Oh? And what color am I?"

"I've never cared to observe. You are a broken television. You are confused," Jann tilted his head in contemplation, glancing to the clock above the mantle. And just at that moment, I could hear the old grandfather clock in the foyer clanging.

It was finally midnight.


	16. Sunday Becomes Monday

"It is time. Come," Jann exclaimed, beckoning to me and turning to leave the room.

Now what? I sighed, fingers itching to find a cigarette, and I followed him out of the sitting room, down the corridor, through the foyer, and back down the familiar corridor to the kitchen. But we passed it and proceeded toward the garage. We were leaving? I wished these damn cuffs were completely off. They were cold and uncouth.

I hurried my pace until I was beside him as he paused to unlock the garage door.

"Where are we going?"

He held his gaze on the doorknob for a moment. "We are leaving." And he proceeded to turn the knob and open the door.

Bastard, I grumbled to myself, and followed him into the garage. The Audi was gone. Alec had left. The Jeep was gone. Will and Lin must have taken it, for Bengal was no more. The Mazda was still there. That was Gabriel's. What were they going to do to him? Would I ever see him again? The two empty spots were haunting. Jann hardly noticed as he crossed the open space to the door beside the last bay. I followed right behind him.

Where the hell was I going to go?

He unlocked the door, the crisp night air blew on us before I even took a step outside. My eyes adjusted quickly to the moonlight. Jann was already approaching a black sedan. Some Acura. Chic, but not too luxuriously outrageous. I went to the passenger's door, the thought of scratching that black paint just to make a point to him flitting through my mind, and I quickly dismissed it. He needed to be acquiescent, not mad at me.

The car was on and turning into reverse even before I'd gotten my seat belt on. What's the rush?

"Your resistance for pettiness is mildly appreciated," Jann exclaimed as he turned the car around, pausing to look at me before he pushed the car into gear.

I huffed. Would he stop reading my mind already? Again, the walls went up, though I began to question its effectiveness. "What's going to happen to Gabriel?"

"He'll go on trial for treason and espionage."

"But you're more –"

"I'm just doing my job, Charlie, Gabriel intentionally left the Camarilla."

"...Right. You never did. This was all a setup. So I guess that means you have immunity?" I shook my head and crossed my arms, looking out the window into the moonlit manicured lawn.

Jann said nothing.

I'd have rather been in a car with Gabriel than this guy. "Where are we going?"

"To New York. Now be silent. I need to make a call."

No doubt about the sting that just went down. The manse passed beside us, behind us, we slowed at the gates, they opened, and we were off. It hadn't even been five minutes. So to New York? This was probably the last time I'd see this place again. Not that I'd miss it. But what the hell was happening? Where the hell was I going? Did he mean New York state, or New York City? I wasn't keen on either. Perhaps Jann hailed from New York. This was only a side mission of neverending side missions for him, apparently. On to the next one, then?

My mind drifted back to Gabriel. So he was valuable to them. Lord knows even I underestimated his brains. He'd been suspicious all along, but he'd hid it well. Maybe that's why they held on to him rather just put an end to him.

The neighborhood passed by, and we headed toward I-95. I looked at Jann. What phone call was he making? He hadn't pulled out a phone or some hands-free device in all this time. And he'd been silent since he told me to be silent. Did he just want me to shut up?

So I contemplated Gabriel's fate, wondered about the fate of the others, cursed Donna, puzzled over Alec's hasty and calm retreat, and began to accept the fact that I'd probably never see those people... those vampires... again. What did it matter what theories I came up with for them? What the hell was this all for? Why was I on this weird and bizarre trip? And how long until my usefulness waned for this Jann creature? I had to be more than just some intriguing science experiment. Or was I just? And why didn't any of this bother me to the point of insanity, as I'm sure it would anyone else? Had I really been that sick of normal human life that I was taking this serious change of reality and perception with indifference?

It was only until we'd gotten on the Turnpike ten minutes later did I realize again that Jann hadn't said a single word or picked up a damn phone. This time, I didn't hide my glaring at him. "I thought you were making a call," I said. "Mind if I smoke?"

He responded immediately, tilting his head. "It's fine. I finished my call a while ago."

"Why you..." He'd been... I couldn't believe... I felt so slighted.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to master the art of subtlety unless you become a kindred. And that is something I do not wish for you."

"Well, then," I huffed, lighting my cigarette and cracking my window open. "Since you're so wise, answer my questions that you so deliberately overheard."

He shook his head. "They're personal questions, Charlie, I don't claim to have all the answers."

"Then tell me something new," I grumbled, taking pleasure in the smoke.

"You have feelings for Gabriel?"

I quickly turned my eyes on him. "He..." But it wasn't true. He did truly seem to have been the only one that treated me fairly, despite the fact that they were all pretentious in one way or another. Gabriel held on to his secrets. But this statement I could sort of stand behind: "He's the only one that made the time for me."

"Gabriel is highly intelligent," Jann exclaimed, looking serenely at the highway as we cruised at an easy 74 mph. "I would not have you think less of him than he would deserve. Has he shared the truth of his origins with you?"

"If you mean to say that if he'd ever admitted to being a Camarilla, yes, he has." Again, I could not believe I was defending these people. It just felt so wrong, so... contradictory.

Jann tsked and shook his head. "That is hardly the truth of it. If he crosses our paths again, his position in the Camarilla will be worth educating you over. But as his fate is currently resting in the hands of Black's Court at this moment, I will leave his legacy to his rights."

"So he's someone pretty important?"

"You can't fish with me," Jann said, smirking. Damn those lips that curved like that. I couldn't help but be annoyed at his flamboyantly haughty manner. I sucked on my cigarette to ignore the flutter in my heart. "This is Gabriel's business. If he hadn't shared it with you, then I wouldn't betray him."

It was apparent he wasn't going to budge. Fine. "New York City?"

"My home city, of course," Jann declared, giving me another smile. "You couldn't have possibly thought me some native of Connecticut?"

"You're too well-spoken to be a stereotype," I replied, scoffing at the dark window's reflection. Ugh. I hated my reflection.

"It's intentional," he shrugged. "I suppose you wonder what will become of you then? You shouldn't worry, my dear. I wouldn't put you into a home of mine, but I cannot allow you to return back to your human life. I understand your parents are in New Jersey."

"Hoboken and Millville, yes." So I wasn't deserving to live in one of his homes, then?

"For a short while, I will be needing to lay low as these procedures of the Yale case are carried out. It's been settled that you will remain with me until the fathers find a use for you. I will expound on your abilities in the meantime."

Fathers? What fathers? Was this some Tremere terminology? "You mean to tell me it's just going to be you and me for the length of the trial? Gabriel's trial?"

"Not Gabriel's trial, Sophie's trial. That was what it was all about, after all."

"Wait, I'm not understanding. Are you seriously saying that the only reason you came up to New Haven from New York was to pull some heist against Sophie? This Sophie Josef?"

"Politics," Jann replied.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. To become some Anarchist..." It boggled my mind. Who the hell were these people? Why were these games so complicated? Their games. It was all one big act. Causing the death and destruction of an unknowable amount of victims. I had no reason to doubt him. "You're the biggest fucking actor I've ever known then," I said flatly. It was more solidification of a thought than it was a statement of fact – though I meant that, too. It was trying to wrap my mind around the trunk of a sequoia. It was enormous. Enormously impossible. You could and would never see all the sides at once.

"Your flattery is appreciated," Jann bowed in a mock display. "I don't strive for Hollywood, I strive to get the job done. But the compliment is filed away; however, it means nothing to me. I don't do this for approval, I do it for survival."

He shot my ego down so fast, I didn't what hit me. "Is it so hard to survive in your reality?"

"When immortality and permanence is at stake, it becomes an obsession. I survive. I enjoy it. It's the only thing that makes me feel alive."

What a sorry existence they must lead, I thought to myself. Knowing full well that there was absolutely nothing there for them once their breathed their last breath – or, should I say, bled their last drop of blood. It was an absolutely hopeless demise once they kicked the bucket. "Endangering your life makes you feel alive?"

He smiled and glanced at me. "Tell me how you feel alive?"

Whatever answer I could come up with felt less than satisfactory in comparison to his ideal. I breathed in the fresh air. I reveled in the beauty of nature. I created and enjoyed the advancements of humankind. Marveled at ingenuity. But the only real satisfaction came in appreciating the summer breeze, feeling the heat of the sun, the coldness of the moon, watching the slow descent of a snowflake. What truly made me feel alive? Nature. So I said nothing.

"I am Tremere. I am not your average Tremere, but I am kindred nonetheless," Jann declared, ignoring my lack of a legitimate response. "You will abandon your former life for this existence?"

"I don't know what kind of existence you're asking me to take."

"You cannot take it, it can only be given. I'm only offering you an alternative. I'm not guaranteeing it to be a better life than the one you've led so far, and I cannot guarantee your life. This is wholly up to you. I can drop you off at Penn Station and you will have no memory of this."

"None at all?" Was he serious? He could erase my memories if I so asked? I put up my wall again, just in case I was slacking. Because the thought of being unable to remember this week, for that's all it truly was, put my mind in a state of distress. Why would I choose to forget this? True, I wasn't keen on the anxiety, but Jann was right. I'd never felt more alive in my life than I had this week. I could go without the threat of death, but even those moments weren't as traumatizing as I'd thought they would be.

Did I wish for death? Not as far as I knew. But yet, I wasn't disturbed as to the possibility of dying. Too many disappointments? Did I really have no resolve to live? No goals or aspirations to strive for, like the world promoted and advertised more than living itself? What was my inspiration? Why did I continue breathing if it made no difference to me?

"You contemplate death?"

I looked at him sharply, extremely miffed. "Why can't you mind your own business?"

"If you're eluding to my Auspex, then I will inform you that I have not pried into your mind. You're blocking me, anyway. I'm only aware of your wary silence, and I'm familiar enough with humanity to understand that your silence is a most likely an introspection upon the loneliness you feel, the futility of the pursuit of modern ambitions, the superficiality of man, the despair of your life before your introduction to the kindred, the shock of your listlessness to the phantasmagoric intrigue of being so close to the Grim Reaper, or perhaps a combination of a few, or all of these preceding thoughts." He leaned his head toward me, arrogant, but in my perception, rightfully so. "I have seen many. I have been kindred nearly a hundred years, dear Charlene. I have grown calloused to corporeal needs, desires, beauty, urgencies of the peculiar and selfish, all that this world considers a step above the rest. And the only thing that is standing firm with the essence of existence is intelligence. There is nothing more important than that of mature wisdom and the acumen of individual thought."

Takes one to know one, my mind immediately retorted. But that hardly made me feel good. I was hardly as intelligent or intellectual as I'd like to be, and I knew he knew that. So why would he taunt me so?

He ignored my sorry reverie and continued. "I see a small light in you, and I would have that to nurture."

"You mean to entertain and study me and my scientific anomaly for a short while," I interjected, almost surprised at my bitterness toward him.

His response was seamless. "Gabriel will survive, don't worry yourself over that."

I couldn't hide my shock at his observation. Because deep down in the places I wouldn't acknowledge, that was truly the cause of my frustration. There was no point in denying it. I couldn't bear the possibility of the sacrifice of his mind, of his beauty and insight.

"And I am a scientist at heart," Jann continued, again ignoring my fluctuations of emotions. "I will admit this to you freely so you will have a free and independent choice." He pointedly looked at an incoming sign ahead of us. Port Chester, it read, forty miles from our current location on the Turnpike. Which gave me approximately half an hour or less to answer Jann's ultimate question: would I willingly join this dangerous existence with the kindred, or back out of the offer like a coward? All this in the span of a split second, because Jann went on: "I am fascinated by your innate abilities. You would be capable of many more abilities than what you possess now. Your obfuscation from Shand, the Auspex you've inherited from myself, and all your other capabilities could be possibly endless. I must know how you are able to adopt these traits without the bonds of our blood."

So this color glow thing came from him? Of course. He'd bit me the night he taunted me in front of Green. I was powerless. But I was a glitch in the normal scheme of things. Would that be reason enough to continue on with them? Or should that be reason enough to stick it to them and disappear? But that wouldn't be permanent now, would it? I wouldn't lose these odd abilities if I had him erase my memories. And then what?

Well.

Another setup. Thank you, Jann. I'm not _that_ stupid.

I was curious, there was no question about that. Curious about what this kindred business was about. Curious of the depth of their power and control. Curious to their numbers, their stories, their origins. Where did these vampires come from? How were they living alongside us without our knowledge – human knowledge – for so long? Were we so oblivious? Or were they that good?

"Would you protect me from the evil of your kind?" I looked at him.

He made an expression of acquiescence with the excuse of failing to meet my gaze as he switched lanes. "You are valuable to me, Charlene. Of course I would keep you safe."

"What if I change my mind at some point in the future?"

"I would grant your wish," he replied.

Now he knew for sure that I was interested. But this he may not know: I knew that if I agreed to this unwritten contract between us, that there was no agreement of a free get-out-of-jail card. If I requested a brainwashing at any point, he would only just abduct me again. I knew this. There would be no end to this game of cat and mouse. And each interaction would only be more irritating on his part. And the last thing I wanted was to be on his shit list.

"Then," I paused for dramatic effect. Let him think he won. Let him think he was all the wiser in his attempts to confuse me. I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but I knew when someone was trying to screw me over. "I will take you up on your offer."

"I ought to eliminate Penn Station from our itinerary?"

I couldn't even begin to describe the oddity of hearing this vampire make reference to these common modern landmarks without a cringe of internal commotion at the contradiction. I shook my head and said no. I was prepared for this loony existence.

"I will tell Dobren. Understand that you would now be wholly under my control. You are, shall we say, 'cool' with this?"

I nodded.

"I need to hear you say it."

There had to more than just the assurance of hearing my vocal chords expression such a sin, but so be it. I wasn't necessarily damaging myself, I wasn't turning into some vampire, and I still had the upper hand should something lethal happen to me. "I would be under your entire control," I stated, looking at his eyes.

He turned and met my gaze for a fraction of a second. "Your words are true, so be it and let it be. You are aware you have denied yourself any form of self-destruction? You belong, both physically and mentally, to me?"

"Are you trying to scare me?" I replied. "You're making me feel like some piece of rank."

"You are."

I stared at him.

"I would not lie to you," Jann said, raising his eyebrow. "I haven't nor would I think to dissuade you from my motivations or ideas. I trust you to keep my thoughts to yourself. I wouldn't betray your principles, either."

Tit for tat. "I'm signing my life away?"

"You're finding your life," Jann replied.

"Honestly?"

Jann turned to look at me and smiled. "Yes, you're signing your life away. For me. With me."

He held my gaze for a second longer. And in those passing milliseconds shouted the silent allure that would cause me the greatest vexation I'd ever know.

Those two words echoed into the hum of the engines leading us into the heart of America, as they would echo into eternity.

"I accept."


End file.
